Consequences
by HighPriestessOfTheDreamWorld
Summary: AU...The Sheriff's expecting a mystery guest but the outlaws have bigger problems on their hands. What happens when two of their members are about to become parents? Romance, Adventure, Drama, Humor, Angst! W/D, R/M, A/OC eventually
1. Conversations and Revelations

**A/N:**This is an AU story taking place after Series 1. Allan has not left the gang. There will be very few similarities to Series 2.

**Conversations and Revelations**

As she sat perched on the trunk of a felled tree, staring out over the darkening stream and trying to ignore the cold, she attempted to steel herself for what she knew must come next. She had to come up with some idea for where she could go. Her stomach churned and she tried hard to steady her emotions...something that had recently become out of her control for the first time in her life.

Djaq had always known that she could not remain in England forever, but she had not expected to be leaving so soon. She had formed some real friendships here and that was something she would find it hard to learn to do without. She had been on her own before, of course, but this time would be completely different.

And she knew that it was not only friends that she was leaving behind. She would be leaving her heart too. She would be leaving the one man who had come to mean more to her than anyone else. The man whom she could no longer allow herself to love or dream of a future with. The man who must never know her true reasons for moving on. None of them could know. It would only complicate things further.

She knew that they did not understand why she had suddenly decided it was time to go. She knew that they probably felt hurt and abandoned. She could not really blame them. But she could not confide in them either. She simply couldn't. So earlier this evening, she had finally worked up the courage to make her announcement over dinner.

_Much had signaled that the stew was ready and everyone grabbed a bowl and settled around the fire. Djaq, however, had no appetite. No one seemed to take much notice of this, though, considering that she had been 'ill' quite a bit this winter and there seemed no end in sight to her queasiness. _

_So everyone carried on as usual. Much complaining about the cold, Robin restlessly stringing and unstringing his bow, Allan teasing Much about the meal, John pretending not to notice any of it or care, and Will talking about repairs he wanted to make to the camp to add further protection from the cold. _

_They had all had way too much free time on their hands lately and the strain was beginning to show. The winter chill in the air kept many a forest-traveling Nobleman indoors and off the roads. So the gang, who was accustomed to dividing their time between making deliveries to the villages and robbing carts, were forced to find other ways to occupy big chunks of their days. This left them all rather on edge with one another._

_On this night, Djaq waited until there was a lull in the mindless chatter and then cleared her throat and began the speech that she had mentally prepared._

"_I have been wanting to tell all of you something." She began, trying to sound much more sure of herself than she felt. "I have decided that it is time for me to return home."_

_Silence. Five pairs of eyes stared at her blankly._

"_I...well...I have been here for quite a while now, and I think that I have done a small amount of good during that time. And I am glad of that. But there are people at home who need my skills as a fighter and a physician as much as, if not more than, the villagers of Nottingham. So I will leave as soon as possible. I am sorry to leave you one man short. I hope that you will try to understand and respect my decision."_

_There. She'd done it. The hard part was finally over. _

"_W...What? No! How...What?" was the best that Much could manage at the moment. Surely she was joking! She couldn't leave! She wouldn't--_

"_What the hell are you talking about, Djaq? **This** is your home. You belong **here**, with us. And you do a damn site more than a small amount of good! You help loads of people. Why are you talking this way?" No no no! Allan wanted to grab her and shake her and tell her that he wouldn't let her go. She was one of the best friends...one of the only friends he'd ever had. Why would she leave him? He needed her. She kept him in line! She was...she was...she was **Djaq!**_

"_It is just as I have told you, Allan." She tried to sound just casual enough so that they would not press her for a deeper motive, but not so casual that they would underestimate her feelings for them. She had expected Much's reaction to be vocal and expressive, but she had been unsure of what to expect from the others. The hurt in Allan's voice as he attempted to assure her that she was needed was heart-breaking. She had to stay strong, though._

"_Are you certain about this Djaq? Is this what you really want?" Robin asked in a concerned but supportive tone. He didn't want her to feel unwanted, but he knew how fiercely she valued her freedom and would do nothing to make her feel trapped. She was, after all, free to go if she so chose. But he wondered what could have happened to make her suddenly want to leave. He had, as they **all** had, noticed a change in her ever since that terrible night several weeks back. She just had not been herself. Maybe that was it. Maybe feeling that she had been so close to death in that cave had shifted her priorities. It made sense._

"_Yes, Robin. I have given this a great deal of thought and, although I will miss all of you terribly, this is what I must do." Robin would accept her decision, she thought. Thank goodness. Maybe the others would follow their leader's example. He was a practical man in many ways...well, at least where Marian wasn't concerned...and he would surely respect her choice._

"_Well, you know that we don't want to see you go, but if this is your decision then we must accept it. I'll help you arrange passage, but you may be in for an extra long voyage. Most of the ships out of port do not go directly to the Holy Land. You will have to make several stops along the way, I'm afraid." their leader added helpfully._

"_No, Robin. I will make my own arrangements. Thank you, though."_

"_It's not going to be easy, Djaq. Being...well...a woman and a Saracen will make transport on an English vessel almost impossible. Let me help you. I have many friends who can be of service. I want you to be safe." He felt that he owed her at least that much for the time she had spent with them and the impact she had made on their lives._

"_Thank you. We will talk more about it later, if you do not mind. I am going to get some fresh air on my own. I will be back in a while." She knew that she would not win this argument with Robin. _

_She knew that he only wanted to help, and she did not know how to refuse his offer short of revealing that she was not really going 'home'. So she opted to postpone the rest of the talk about the voyage until she had had time to think of something plausible. She was not really looking forward to going back out into the cool night air, but she really wanted to be alone to think._

_Much was still stomping around and muttering under his breath about families being split and physicians who did not even know enough to stay in out of the cold. John and Allan sat looking at the ground, seemingly at a loss for what to say. She had avoided looking at Will, and he had remained completely silent. His reaction was the one she had most feared. He would surely blame himself for this and she did not want that. But she knew that guilt was a far better fate for him than the alternative._

_She stood up, setting her nearly-full dinner bowl down, and, grabbing her blanket off of her bunk to ward off at least some of the cold, headed out the door. She noticed that they did not even wait for her to be out of earshot before voicing their thoughts._

"_You cannot be seriously considering letting her go!?! I mean, it's dangerous out there. Oh no. Absolutely not! **No** Master!"_

"_Much, Djaq is a grown woman and she-"_

"_We gotta convince her to stay. We can't just let her go. We gotta tell her that we can't get on without her. We need to-"_

"_Allan, we cannot force her to be here if it is not what she wishes. As much as we care for Djaq, she does not **belong** to us. She is free to do as she sees fit. Besides, try to remember, this is not her country and we are not her people. She has given well beyond what could be expected of anyone. If she feels she must move on, we cannot stop her." Robin tried to be the voice of reason, but he felt their disappointment...and their fears. He knew that she was a strong woman, but there were dangers out there that he feared she wasn't prepared for. Besides, he knew how much the lads cared for her and he wasn't sure how they would adjust to life in Sherwood without her. _

"_Sure, what do you care, Robin? It's just one less man to you. But Djaq is special. We need her!"_

"_That's hardly fair, Allan. Of course I care about....."_

_Their voices finally faded as she got further away from camp. She wanted to cry so badly that her throat ached. But she had shed far too many tears in coming to this decision and, now that she'd started on her plans, she would stay strong. After all, she was not responsible only for herself any longer. She had to remain in control. She used to be so good at it and now two lives depended on it._

So, over an hour after delivering her planned speech to the men, she sat by the stream and waited for night to fall completely before making her way back to camp. She would give them enough time to be talked into acceptance. Robin would be the practical voice and, hopefully, the others would eventually listen. Maybe, if she were lucky, they would all be in bed when she returned.

"Djaq."

She whirled around to face a solemn Will. How long had he been back there? She had not heard him approach.

"Djaq. It's...I...Can I ...Can we talk? _Please_?" His voice was strained and he sounded like a man close to the breaking point.

"Will, please do not try to talk me out of my decision. My mind is made up. And, before you ask it, no, this has nothing to do with you. I have already told you that I do not blame you. I made the choice and I must live with the consequences--" Here her voice broke involuntarily and she tried to choke back the sob before he heard it. But he was at her side in an instant, kneeling down beside her and gazing into her face.

Will had never known Djaq to cry. She was always so strong. But the past couple of months, he knew better than anyone, had been hard for her. He wished so badly that he could take it all back. Everything. Make it so it had never happened. That he could give her back that piece of herself that she had lost that night in the cave. He hated what she was doing to herself and that he was the cause of it.

"You don't have to do this, Djaq. You don't have to leave. I don't _care_ what you say to Robin and the others, _I know_ why you're going. You're not going home just to help your own people. You want to run away. From me...from what happened. But you don't have to."

"Leave me alone, Will!" She snapped. She could not allow him to get too close now. Not while she was feeling vulnerable and helpless for the first time in her life. She could not let him in. "You do not understand."

"I understand more than you think. And if I don't completely understand, it's only because you won't _talk_ to me. You keep shutting me out. We used to be friends. We can go back to that. I've told you that over and over. I'm willing to forget everything and go back. We can pretend it never happened. I've tried and tried, Djaq. Why won't _you_ try? I know that you feel bad...that you..._regret_...things. And you'll never know how sorry I am...for _everything_. But you can't go. _I'll_ leave, if you want. If you can't stay here while I'm here then I'll be the one to go. This is your home now. Please stay."

"This is _your_ home, Will. Do not let me drive you away. You are needed here." She said in a gentler tone. The pain that he was trying to conceal nearly ripped her heart out. Why was he such an honorable man? It made this so much harder.

Although she knew that if he had been less honorable, if he had been any other man on earth, they would not be in this situation. She would never have done what she did. She was to blame for all of this confusion and pain. She had allowed her heart, rather than her head, to guide her for the first time in her life, and this is where it had gotten her.

_It had all started about six weeks back......_


	2. Six Weeks Earlier

**Six Weeks Earlier**

_It had all started about six weeks back...... _

_They had been making their regular deliveries. It was the coldest day that Djaq had experienced since coming to England, and she couldn't imagine any day being colder. She and Will had been paired up by Robin to go to Clun._ _The others had all been paired off as well, but Djaq suspected that none of them were as happy with their partner as she was. They had almost completed their rounds when it began to snow harder than usual. _

_Even the outlaws' winter clothes were woefully inadequate, and Will was desperate to complete their drop-offs and get back to camp before the snow picked up. He knew that Djaq was miserable in the cold, and he couldn't really blame her. He had grown up in it and was still not completely used to it. But she had very little experience with snow, he knew. _

_But she would not complain, of course. She wanted to be as strong as the rest of them. It always made him feel something between amused and annoyed that she couldn't see how much stronger she actually was than anyone he'd ever known without even trying to be. They all had an enormous amount of respect for her and everything she did. But she always insisted on proving something._

_He was trying so hard to complete their task and make it back before the storm set in. But it was difficult to do while he kept one eye on her, to be certain she wasn't getting too cold, and the other on the darkening sky and biting wind. He could tell that a storm was coming and was beginning to fear that they would not make it back to camp in time to avoid it. _

_Djaq was shivering terribly and trying with all of her might to hide it. She knew that if Will had had any idea of how cold she was, he would have insisted on giving her his cloak. She could not have that. So she tried to keep her mind on the fire that would be lit when they got back to camp, and the warm supper that Much would prepare. _

_Despite the freezing air, she could not be wholly disappointed at the day's events. She loved spending time with Will. She suspected that she had been feeling that way for quite a while, but had only recently admitted it to herself. _

_She would never admit it to him, of course. That would be awkward and embarrassing for both of them. They were friends and he would feel ill at ease if he knew that she thought of him as anything else. Of course he would. He thought of her as a sister or something, that's all. He would be uncomfortable with more._

_They had finally made their last delivery when Will looked up at the sky with a strange expression on his face. She wasn't sure what he was thinking. They were heading off into the forest when he stopped suddenly and turned to her._

"_It's getting really bad out here." He shouted over the rapidly increasing wind. "And I'm afraid it's only going to get worse. The snow's about to really start coming down. It'll take us two hours at least to make it back in this weather, and I don't think we should risk it. What do you think?" He knew that she would hate the idea of not going back to camp, but it was much too far to walk in this weather. He didn't think they'd make it alive. He was sorry that they had not started back earlier._

"_I don't know. What will we do then?" She shouted back, her words creating a puff of moisture-laden fog that hung in the air. She did not really like the idea of staying with one of the villagers. They were decent enough to her when she was helping them, but she knew they did not like or trust her completely. They accepted her help because she was with Robin Hood and the gang all vouched for her. But they would not want her in their homes as an overnight guest. She was certain that Will just didn't see it, though, considering what a caring person he was. He would expect all good people to be like him. So she feared that he would suggest they do just that._

"_Well, we could turn around and go back to the village, but I don't like being so exposed. What if someone tips off a guard or something. We'd be at risk and so would whoever helped us. What about the old caves? They're not nearly as far as the camp."_

"_The others will be worried when we do not return. I do not wish them to be out looking for us in this weather." She said, biting her lower lip the way she always did when she was worried or deep in thought._

"_They won't. They'll know we're together and they'll figure we took shelter somewhere safe. We'll head back first thing in the morning. If it's alright with you. But we'd better get moving quickly."_

_As soon as he said the words 'they'll know we're together', she felt an enormous sense of peace. Where could be safer than with Will Scarlett? "Okay. Let's go to the cave."_

_And so they went, trying hard to shield themselves and each other from the sharp and snowy wind whipping at their faces and bodies._

_They reached the cave and were dismayed to find that it was no warmer than outside. Of course, it wasn't snowing inside, so that was a plus. But, owing to the dampness in the air, they were unable to find an adequate supply of dry material to start a proper fire. They ended up with a flame so insignificant that it did little more than provide a small amount of light to see by but was not nearly enough to provide any heat. _

_The gang had slept in the caves numerous times during cold and rain, back before they had a permanent camp, but they had always had a fire and semi-warm blankets. Plus, there had been six of them huddled together. Now there were only two. So they moved as far away from the entrance as possible and sat close together for warmth._

"_I'm sorry." Will began while scooting closer to her._

"_What for? Did you make it snow?" She asked teasingly as she looked at him out of the corner of her eye. "What could you possibly have to apologize for?"_

"_I don't know. For this. I thought it would be better to spend the night here than freeze to death out there." He answered guiltily._

"_And...isn't it? Better I mean? You were right, we would probably not have made it back. This is better. We just need to warm up." Although she was no warmer in here than she had been out there, and the floor of the cave felt like a sheet of ice beneath her, she did not want Will to feel bad. Besides, she did not know what alternative they had. She was pleased to see him smile shyly at her words._

"_You're right. I suppose it'll warm up eventually. You can try to sleep, if you like. I'll keep watch." He offered._

"_I am much too c-cold to sleep." She said through chattering teeth. "You go ahead. I'll sit up." But he just shook his head and rubbed his hands together to create warmth._

_He wanted desperately to wrap his arms around her and protect her from the chill in the air but he knew that she would be offended. She would think that it was because she was a woman. _

_But it **wasn't**. Well, only partly. It was because she was the woman he **loved**. He wanted to take care of her, not because he didn't think she could handle herself...he knew damn well she could, but because he cared so much about her that he never wanted her to suffer._

_But he settled for sitting as close to her as he could without being inappropriate, and trying to chase away the thought that, even though they were cold and hungry, he was secretly pleased to have this time alone with her._

_Djaq sat there watching him out of the corner of her eye and trying not to think about how warm it would feel to be held in his arms. She had thought that a lot lately. She wondered if there were a way to get even closer to him without letting him see how she felt about him...however that was. She did not even know. But she thought that the cold might provide her with the perfect excuse for finding out. _

_It was daring and forward and completely out of character for her. She would never have even thought about about attempting something like that ordinarily. But she was cold and she was alone with him and, well, it seemed right._

_So she scooted ever closer to his body until their legs and arms were pressed together, side by side. But it was not enough. So she cleared her throat, looked at the floor and said, in a barely audible tone, "Body heat helps."_

_When he did not respond, she tried again. "I mean, maybe we should try to move as close together as possible in order to keep warm." Even she had to blush and squirm at her brazenness, so she could only imagine what Will was feeling. He must surely think she'd lost her mind. _

_When he heard her say that they needed to get closer, he was stunned for a moment. But then he realized how very cold she must be and that she was asking for his help. He knew how hard that must be for her. So after only a moment's hesitation, he wrapped his arms around her and was surprised when she leaned her head against his shoulder. He could almost forget how cold he was. She felt so soft and smelled so nice. She always smelled nice. It was the scent of lavender, he thought._

"_Is that better?" he asked quietly, afraid of breaking the spell. He never wanted to let her go._

"_Mm-hmm" was all she said. She was starting to forget how freezing cold she was. In fact, she was having trouble remembering anything except the man who held her in his arms. So this was what it was like to feel safe, she mused absently._

_He was such a good man. So brave and honorable. She had long since believed him to be the most considerate man she had ever met. He was always doing **something** for someone. Often at the expense of his own needs. He never claimed to be too tired or too busy to help someone. He was always willing to take on one more task. Even the things that nobody else wanted to do. He was just nice that way. _

_Sure, there were other good men. But they usually expected credit for the things they did. But not Will. No. He actually preferred it if no one noticed his deeds. But Djaq always noticed. _

_She had begun to notice everything about him. And, if she was not mistaken, it almost seemed as if he spent a great deal of time and effort being kind to **her**. Even more than he was with other people. He always seemed to be there at the precise moment she needed his help. _

_And that's when it happened. Thinking back, she could never quite understand how, but she went from leaning her head against his shoulder to kissing him firmly on the lips._

_Will had been sitting there with his eyes closed, wishing that he could hold her forever, when he suddenly felt her lips pressed to his. He wasn't even sure if it was real at first, until she pulled away sharply and scooted across the room with a horrified expression on her face. _

_He was as shocked as she was. Had she really kissed him or had he unconsciously done it himself? If he had, she would have every right to hate him for it. But he honestly didn't remember kissing her. _

_She was ashamed of her own behavior. How could she do such a thing? And to her friend! Now things would be strange between them. She had spent so long trying to prove she was one of the lads, and now she had proven, in the space of an hour, that she couldn't be trusted alone with one of them. What a fool she was. What must he think of her? She knew she should say something. She should at least look over at him. But she couldn't._

"_Djaq, I...are you...**Hey**, you're shivering. Here." And before she could protest, he had stood up, removed his cloak and brought it over to where she now sat. As he knelt beside her and draped it around her he started to ask, "Why...why did you...or did I...I don't--"_

"_I am so sorry, Will." She cut him off. "I can only imagine what you must think of me. I...I never should have...It will not happen again." It all came out in a rush as she stared at the ground beneath her._

"_So...**you** kissed **me**? I thought that maybe I was the one who kissed you and that's why you moved away." He paused. "You don't have to be sorry. You must know how much I care about you." He spoke softly while staring at the floor as well. "You must know by now how much you mean to me." _

_Where was this courage coming from? He had always been determined that he would never let her know of his feelings for her. He was sure that she did not share them and that it would only make their life together difficult for her. But if she had kissed him, then maybe there was a chance that she felt at least something for him. Besides, she was clearly feeling like she had done something wrong and he wanted to ease her mind._

_She didn't say a word. She couldn't. Was he saying what it sounded like? Could he really feel that way for her? She should open her mouth and tell him that it was a bad idea for them to have feelings for one another. It had been one thing when she was the only one. She had felt certain that she could remain in control when necessary even though she cared for him. Of course, now she had kissed him. So there went **that** theory. But if he shared those feelings, that was more frightening than anything she could have imagined. She should tell him that it was all a big misunderstanding brought on by the cold. But all she could do was sit there and say nothing._

_When a moment went by and she had not answered, he felt that he had made the biggest mistake of his life. He didn't want to lose her. But now she would surely not want anything more to do with him. But just as he was standing up to leave her alone, feeling like a lost fool, he looked at her one last time. This time, for the first time since entering the cave, their eyes actually met. And he saw what he had never dared to notice. She seemed to be expressing the same longing that he felt. _

_She saw it too when she looked at him. And in an instant, she was on her feet and had her arms up around his neck. She pressed her lips to his and held her body tightly against him. He wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted her off the ground. _

_Their lips parted and she buried her fingers in his hair and tried to remind herself to breathe. But, in truth, all she could think of was the feeling of peace that had settled over her and how at odds it was with the desperation she felt at never having him near enough. She wanted him closer. She needed to feel every part of him. So she pressed herself more firmly against him and kissed him harder._

_He, in turn, held her as tightly as he could without hurting her. He would never want to hurt her. She was far too precious to him. He didn't know how he had gotten so lucky. Why would a woman like Djaq care for someone like him? But she did and it made him happier than he had ever thought he could be again. After all of the loss that he had experienced in his life, he had never expected that anything or anyone could fill the void he carried inside. _

_She felt so soft and warm in his arms. And as he broke from kissing her, he returned her feet to the ground. But he didn't let go of her. He held her in his arms and leaned down to kiss her neck and shoulders. _

_He paused for a moment to look at her and make sure that he was not doing anything that would make her uncomfortable. But she looked up at him and stood on her toes to plant a kiss on his cheek before softly kissing her way down his neck and stopping at his chest where she lay her head against him and closed her eyes._

_She was so beautiful that he wanted to touch her all over. But he would never do anything to compromise her honor. So he settled for kissing her cheek instead. "I love you, Djaq." he whispered into her hair. "I love you."_

_She leaned away from him and looked up into his eyes. And she saw that it was true. He did love her. And she knew then that she loved him. She probably always had. How could she have denied it to herself? And now, by some mad twist of fate, they were together, alone, and he loved her._

"_I love you." She said simply._

_And with that, the frantic kissing began again and was quickly joined by wild tugging at each other's clothing. Neither of them had ever felt anything so strong in their entire lives. They cared for nothing but each other. They needed to get as close as possible and stay that way. Gone were all of their previous concerns for propriety and honor. Gone too were all of their fears and doubts. All that remained was a vague awareness of cold in the air and the delirious feeling of being the only two people alive._

_As they finally freed themselves of their clothing, being careful only to pull apart when absolutely necessary, Will lifted her in his arms and carried her to where he had dropped their cloaks. He laid her down gently on top of the cloaks and looked down into her eyes. "Do you want to stop? We can stop if you want to. I don't want to do anything **you** don't want to do. You are always safe with me, my love." he whispered, his mouth inches away from hers. _

_She was deeply touched by the tenderness she saw mixed with the passion in his eyes. She knew that he meant what he said and she did feel safe. Probably for the first time in as long as she could remember._

"_I do** not** want to stop." She said and he lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her softly and slowly. _

_Later, after they had given themselves to each other heart, body and soul, the cold completely forgotten along with everything else, they had fallen asleep in each other's arms, covered only by some of their hastily discarded clothing. Both were content and at peace and neither thought nor cared about what tomorrow would bring._

_But when Will awoke early the next morning, Djaq was dressed and standing rigidly at the entrance to the cave. He knew immediately that things were not right with her. "Is it still snowing?" He asked, hoping he was wrong about her mood but fearing that he was not._

_At first she did not react at all to the sound of his voice. Then, after what seemed like hours, but was really only a moment, she turned and said, "Only a little. We should go now before it picks up and we are forced to spend another day here. Robin will wonder where we are." She said in a tone that conveyed clearly that she wanted things to go back to the way they had been before last night's activities. _

_Will's heart sank as he took in the look in her eyes and the edge in her voice. Gone was the love he'd seen and heard so clearly on the previous night. Why had she changed? What had he done? Had he hurt her? He had tried to be so gentle and loving. He went as slowly as she needed and had stopped frequently and whispered how sorry he was for causing her any discomfort. Each time she had smiled up at him and kissed him sweetly when she was ready to go on. And when the painful part had seemed to be over, they had both made each other feel alive and wonderful and complete. _

_He had not been alone in feeling that way. He was sure that she had felt it too. She had held him to her and gasped his name over and over between words in her own language, which he could not understand but felt he knew the meaning of none the less. And after he had reached his own moment of bliss and lay dazed and semi-conscious in her arms, she had placed feather light kisses on his eyelids and forehead and told him that she loved him._

_They had shared something real and special and now she was prepared to shut him out like it had never happened. He had thought that they were starting a life together. He wanted to marry her and love her everyday of her life. Why had her feelings for him gone away?_

"_Djaq?" He began, but was cut off by her clipped tone._

"_Will, what happened here was a mistake. We both know that. I think we can agree that it must never happen again. It does not fit in with the life we live. It was irresponsible and unfair. We must do our best to act as if nothing has changed. We do not want the others to pick up on the tension between us. It would not do for them to know about this. It would cause resentments and acrimony within the gang. I need your word on this." She tried hard to cover the shame she felt by hiding it behind cold words and stern looks. _

_She had gone to great lengths to preserve her virtue through war, captivity, and spending every night sleeping back to back with five outlawed Englishmen. How could she have been so impulsive and light as to let it go now? One unchaperoned night alone with this man and all of her beliefs and principles went right out the window. _

_She could not even blame Will. He had given her every opportunity to change her mind. No. She was the one to blame. She had allowed herself to get carried away by what she felt for this man. She had lost the control she had always been so proud of having over herself and her feelings. It was a woman's duty to protect her honor. She had ruined herself and there was no going back. _

_But she could not allow it to continue. She would not live in disgrace with him. She knew that she could not make him understand. Perhaps the English took these matters more lightly. And a man never bore the burden of disrepute. But she had done something very wrong and she knew that this shame would follow her always. She had been raised to respect her faith and to behave accordingly._

_She should have saved herself for her husband or given herself to no man at all. That was what she had been taught and what she had always believed. Plus, she had compromised her position in the gang. She had worked so long and tried so hard to be accepted as one of the lads. She could not throw that away now. _

"_Djaq, I would never tell anyone what we did. But why do you call it a mistake? Don't you..." he swallowed hard and looked at the ground, trying desperately not to break down. Even though his whole world felt like it was ending. "Don't you love me? I meant it when I told you I loved you. You know I did. I still mean it. Please don't do this. Think about what you're saying. Nothing has to change for the worse. We were happy last night, together. Can't you try to be happy with me? What happened between us does not have to happen again if you don't want it to. We can just **be** together if that's what you want. I love you more than anything. I'll do all that I can to make you happy. Please."_

_Oh, the ache in her heart was more than she could bear. He sounded so lost. She loved him still, despite her regrets and shame. But she was so disgusted with herself for behaving the way she had. She did not want to hurt him this way, but she could not live with what she had done. She had to bury it and she needed his cooperation. Even if he could not understand. _

"_Will, I do not wish to be cruel to you. I am sorry that you are disappointed. But I truly regret my actions and wish never to have to think of them again. Please. If you really care for me you will do as I ask." She tried to avoid meeting his eyes. The hurt she knew she would see there would crush her._

"_But I...Can't you...**Why** do you regret it? I know how much you value your honor. Do you feel that I took advantage of you? I'm so sorry. It wasn't my intention to mistreat you in any way. We can fix everything. We can get married. Then you don't have to feel bad and regret anything. I love you and I want to spend my life with you. I should have married you first. I should never have let myself get carried away with you. But please don't leave me now. Please don't force me to go back to being alone. I love you. **Please** say you love me too." He couldn't believe that he could be this close to complete happiness only to have it taken from him. Why?_

"_I do not blame you. You have not mistreated me in any way. This is not your fault. Believe me when I say that I blame only myself. And I am **not** **leaving** you. Things will be as they always were. We were friends. We can be again. But you must agree to what I ask." She kept her tone even and firm. _

_She would not even discuss his offer of marriage. She knew that he spoke only out of guilt because he was such a decent man. But she also knew that no man would want a woman who had no morals. Besides, what kind of life could they have together? Married and living with the rest of the gang in the forest? Or would he feel he had to leave behind his fight for justice, something he valued so highly, in order to take her someplace and start a new life together? No. They must end this now before she allowed herself to hope for something she could never have._

"_Is this really what you want, Djaq?" He asked in a small defeated voice. He wanted to continue arguing with her in the hopes of wearing her down, but he knew how unfair and selfish that was. If she truly regretted being with him and she no longer loved him, then he could not bring himself to make her feel worse about it._

"_It is." She must stay strong._

"_Fine." he said after a long pause. "You have my word. I will never bring it up again and I'll go back to the way things were." If he had been alone he would have cried. He would have openly mourned the loss of the one thing he had never dared to hope for and had just begun to cherish. But he did not wish to make this worse for either of them, so he stood up to get dressed and she stepped outside to wait for him._

_They didn't speak at all on the walk back to camp. And when they arrived, Will explained about the storm and taking shelter in the cave without meeting anyone's eyes. Of course, he made no mention of how they'd spent their time there. Then Allan muttered some cheeky words about the two of them spending the night alone together with no one to keep them in line which made Djaq go pale. _

_It was intended to be funny because, of course, everyone knew that Will and Djaq were the two most virtuous members of their group and there was never any cause to doubt their behavior. The other men started to laugh at what they perceived as a harmless joke until they caught sight of Djaq's reaction and expressed concern. _

_Will, trying to spare her any embarrassment, quickly explained that they had been very cold last night and that Djaq had feared that they would both die due to their lack of a decent fire or any blankets to give at least some warmth. He told them that she was still not used to the winters in England and that last night had been one of the hardest nights she'd ever spent and she preferred not to discuss the fear she'd experienced. She merely nodded her agreement to his words and the others apologized to her for being thoughtless. _

_Everyone seemed to accept Will's explanation and things should have returned to normal. And for a few weeks it seemed as if they would. She was distant with Will, but she mostly behaved like herself the rest of the time. Then she had developed a minor stomach ailment, brought on by the cold, she'd said. And ever since, she had seemed completely uncomfortable and unable to relax at all. _

_She seemed to feel uneasy with all of them to a certain extent. But she completely shut Will out. Whenever anyone inquired about whether she was feeling better, she would become irritated. They all knew her to be the type of person who hated being fussed over, so they learned to leave her alone when she was unwell._

_But Will tried several times to talk to her about it and ask her to please try to put the past behind them and to let him at least be her friend and help her. But each time she reminded him of his promise to not discuss the past. So he was left with no idea as to how to repair things between them. And now she was planning to leave and he would probably never see her again......._


	3. Revelations and Resolutions

**Revelations and Resolutions**

_And now she was planning to leave and he would probably never see her again......._

Here she was insisting on walking out on him for good. He could not accept her decision so easily.

"Djaq, I've done everything that you've asked of me since that night, even when it nearly killed me, and now you want to _go_? Stay here and let's work this out. Nobody has to leave. We can both stay here. Nothing has to change. Don't you see that? _Nothing_ has to change!" He was nearly shouting at her now, he was so afraid of losing her. Why was she so stubborn? Why did she have to have everything her way?

That was the final straw for her. She finally broke down and cried uncontrollably upon hearing him declare that nothing would change. Everything must now change and she had to face the fact that she was powerless to do anything about it. She had yet to come up with a reasonable plan for where to go, and she knew now that she had been a fool to think that she could run away from this.

She had always been strong and rational before all of this, but she could no longer hold her emotions inside. Recent events were making her more sensitive and emotional than she had ever been. She couldn't stop herself from crying. And she hated it. It made her feel weak and foolish. She especially hated for anyone to see her this way.

Will instinctively reached out and held her trembling body tightly against him. To his great surprise, she did not try to push him away. "No no. Shh. Don't cry. Oh, _please_ don't cry." He whispered lovingly into her hair, stroking her back with one hand and holding her tightly with the other. "Shh. Everything will be alright. You'll see. I'm so sorry I yelled at you. I didn't mean it. _Please_ don't cry. Shh. Shh. I'm sorry." What an idiot he was! No wonder she wanted to leave him! Why had he lost his temper with her and made her cry? "Everything can be the way it was before. You don't have to go. We can try harder. You'll see." But this only made her cry more.

As her tears fell, the last of her resolve crumbled. "I...am going...to have...a baby." She poured out between sobs against his chest, feeling defeated. "Nothing...will...be right...again." Followed by more of the cursed sobbing.

Without even realizing it, he let go of her and backed away to process what he had just heard. A baby? How? Well he knew _how_, but...he had never even considered this. Why was he so stupid? He had never even thought that they might have made a baby together. Poor Djaq. She had been left to deal with the consequences of their night together all on her own.

He didn't know what to say to her. What could he say that she would possibly want to hear? He loved her and he had done nothing but mess up her life. He had thought that her returning to the Holy Land was the worst thing that could happen to him, but the thought of her leaving here _and_ taking their child was more than he thought he could live through.

She was not terribly surprised when he let go of her after she blurted out her condition. But, she admitted to herself, she was disappointed. She hadn't even realized it, but a tiny part of her had wanted him to hold her and tell her it would all be okay. Maybe more than a tiny part. She almost wanted to let someone else share her pain and worry for once.

But after a moment he was back kneeling in front of her with his hands resting on her shoulders. "I'm sorry, Djaq. I'm sorry that this happened and I'm sorry that you've been alone. You don't have to be alone. You're _not_ alone. I'm here and I want to help. Are you alright? Does it..._hurt_? Are you sick?" He paused. "Wait a minute. This is why you've been sick? And this is why you want to leave? Not just to run away, but to leave before anyone figures it out?" Suddenly things seemed a bit clearer to him. He mentally kicked himself again for being so stupid.

"I am not in any pain. I do feel sick sometimes but it is not bad. But don't you see why I must go now?" She asked desperately through her stifled sobs. "Soon everyone will know. And there is no place for me here anymore. Even if they did not judge me for my dishonor, they would not let me participate in our activities. Even though I am still capable of fighting and making deliveries and all of that, and will be for a while, everyone will try to keep me at the camp. They will have me cooking and doing laundry for everyone. I would go mad. I need to be useful and active. Plus, there is no place for a child here. I will be in the way with a baby and everyone will resent the changes they must make. _You_ will resent things as well." Surely he understood now why she could not stay long enough for everyone to find out about her disgrace and throw her out.

"No! You _can't_ leave." He practically shouted through his desperation. "Especially not now. I could _never_ resent you. Stay here. I'll make everything right. I promise. I'll work everything out with Robin and the rest of the gang. No one wants you to leave. And there _is_ no dishonor. Don't you see that? No one will judge you. You know that. Everyone here loves you. We'll get married but nothing else has to change if you don't want it to." He wasn't even certain if he was making any sense. He was desperately saying whatever he could think of to get her to change her mind. Anything to make her stay. He _had_ to try.

"We can still live together the same as we always have, only you won't have to be alone. You shouldn't go off by yourself while you're carrying a child. It's not safe. Even for you. I know how strong you are but right now is not the time to run off on your own. We'll get married and then no one will judge you and the child can have my name. I won't ask anything of you. I promise. I know that I am young and I have nothing to offer you now, but give me the chance to prove that I can take care of you and our child. Please, Djaq! Don't leave me and take my child away. _Please_." And he held her even more tightly. He couldn't let her go, he just couldn't. She had to agree to stay. Even if she wouldn't marry him, she _had_ to stay.

"I do not wish to be taken care of. That is the point. I am used to relying on myself and I do not want that to change now." She was actually sorely tempted to agree. For one thing, she had yet to think of a place she could go.

She could surely not return to Jerusalem in this condition. And anywhere else would be a danger to her and her child. Plus, she loved her life here. At least she had until all of this confusion between her and Will. She had never been so accepted in her life as she's been since joining Robin's gang. It was so freeing to not have to hide behind her dead brother's identity...to be a woman...but to still be accepted and respected for her abilities. To do the things that were important to her like healing and fighting for peace. And she cared for all of them very much. But if she could trust Will and he could keep his promise about everything going back to the way it was between the two of them, then maybe she should try to stay.

Besides, she did not think that he would let her go now that he knew about his child. He was a man of honor, after all. She would not have loved him so much otherwise. And a child should not face the taint of birth out of wedlock. Most women who found themselves in her situation had little choice in the matter. She knew that she should consider herself lucky that he wanted to make things right.

He was still holding her while awaiting her answer and, despite herself, she found it comforting. She could not bring herself to embrace him in return, but having him there was nice. He was reliable and good. He would try his best to stay out of her way if that was what she wished. She knew that he would keep his word to her. She could really not ask for a better man. But marriage?

Of course, it made sense that he would want to give his child his name. She should say yes. There would never be another offer of marriage for her. Although, honestly, she had always assumed she would not marry. But then, she had also assumed she would not bear children.

"If you can make sure that things will go back to the way they were before, I will stay. But only if everyone agrees. This will mean many changes for them as well. They must understand what they are facing and agree or I can not stay. What will you tell them?" She knew that they needed to know at least the basics, but it was embarrassing to think that they would know her private matters.

"I'll tell them enough to make them understand." He was starting to become hopeful. "You have nothing to worry about. Let me deal with them. I'll tell them now, if you like. That way they will not question you when you return to camp. I'll let them know that they aren't to discuss this with you unless you want to. What about marrying me?" He asked carefully. "Will you agree to that as well? You can trust me Djaq. I would never push you or expect anything from you. I just want to be here for you and the baby."

"_If_ they agree," She began after silently pondering for a moment. "I will stay and marry you. Just so the child will not be tainted any more than he or she will already be, considering our status as outlaws. But I do not want a wedding. Just us and whoever else is required to make it legal. Agreed? Also, we will not share a bed. We will be comrades only. And I must be allowed to go on missions. At least for now. I will say when it is time to slow down. Agreed?" She said in her firmest voice.

She knew that she actually had no way of forcing any of them to meet her demands, but she hoped that the threat of her leaving and taking Will's child would be enough. Although, in truth, she had already realized that she had nowhere to go. She'd just be running and that was no life for a child. But she wanted him to think that she was in control. It helped.

"Alright." He said with a mix of sadness and hope. "Whatever you want. I'll go and speak to Robin now. I'll come back in a few minutes and tell you what happens. Thank you. We can do this, Djaq. We can make this work. I know it." He was so relieved but he could still not let go of her. So he just held her a moment longer and then stood, straightened out the blanket she had wrapped around herself and walked swiftly back to camp with absolutely no idea how to accomplish all of the promises he'd just made to her. But he loved her and he vowed not to let her down again.

The hope mixed with heart-break in his voice and in his eyes was devastating. Djaq hated making him feel so unwanted. He did not deserve it. But she resented the fact that she needed him now. If the world was an unkind place for a woman on her own, it was even more so for a woman on her own with a child. So she had little alternative. But she hated complicating his life. He deserved so much better than a wife who would not even share his bed. The whole situation was horribly unfair...to everyone. But she could still not help hoping that she could somehow get back her life.

_After Djaq had left the camp earlier, the gang had spent quite a while arguing over her announcement. Allan and Much had, at first, jointly decided that they would not allow her to leave. They declared that they simply would not accept her decision. But when Robin pointed out that their acceptance would probably have little or no impact on whether she stayed or left, they switched tactics and tried to come up with ways to convince her to stay. _

_John, as usual, said little. He only spoke up occasionally to tell them when one of their ideas was unlikely to do more than anger Djaq. He would not allow those two knuckleheads to bully her. He wished that he could come up with a sure way of letting her know how much they cared about her and that they needed her here. But he felt that if she hadn't figured that out by now, there wasn't much he could say to her. _

_Allan and Much tried to outdo each other by coming up with the best ideas for getting Djaq to stay - which ranged from begging her (which Much came up with and thought quite likely to work), to actually injuring one another so that they'd need her medical care (this last idea was courtesy of Allan), and numerous plans in between. Inevitably, someone else always came up with some reason why each idea wouldn't work. And the discussion quickly deteriorated into everyone blaming everyone else for making her unhappy, not appreciating her and driving her away. This made Will speak up for the first time. _

"_That's it. I'm going to find her." Was all he said as he stood and made his way out of camp._

_Once he had gone, Much said, "Maybe he can talk some sense into her. If she'll listen to anyone, it's Will. Right, Robin?" He asked, his voice full of hope for the first time that evening._

"_I don't know, Much. Something's changed between those two lately. They're not as close as they used to be. Poor Will. He's gonna be heart-broken when she leaves."_

"_**If** she leaves, you mean! She ain't gone yet. We've still got time to come up with a plan. Even if Will can't make her stay, something has to work." Allan offered._

"_That's right. Besides, Will is not the only one who'll miss Djaq. We'll all miss her. That's why we can't let her leave. We need her. She's one of us." Much put in._

_And so it had continued until Will reentered the camp less than an hour later._

"Did you talk to her?" Allan wanted to know as soon as Will had returned.

"Yeah, is she going to stay? Did you tell her she can't go? She's going to stay, isn't she?" Much chimed, certain that everything had been worked out.

"What happened, Will?" Robin asked, taking in Will's grave expression and putting up a hand to silence the other two.

As Will prepared himself to ask to speak with Robin in private, he realized that it might be better to get it all out at once, with everyone here. Although that would be rather embarrassing and uncomfortable, he had promised Djaq that he would get the consent of every man and he intended to do his best to deliver.

"Well, she said she'd stay--" He began, but was interrupted by Much.

"I _knew_ it! I knew it! I told you he would talk her into it. Didn't I? You said that they weren't close anymore but I knew it."

"Much, shut up! Let Will speak." Robin threw out heatedly, not a little embarrassed at having Much repeat his words in front of Will. "Go ahead, Will."

"Well, she'll stay, but there's a lot I need to tell you. It's kind of complicated and personal, but you need to hear it all before you agree to let her stay."

"What do you mean _agree_? 'Course she's staying!" Allan said, looking at Will as if he had grown a second head.

"Just hear me out first, Allan...all of you." He took a deep breath. "First of all, you need to know something. Djaq...well...she's having a baby." He paused to let this first part of the news sink in and mentally prepared himself for the rest of what he had to say.

"What? She's _what_? How? I don't _think_ so." Much spluttered. He couldn't believe this. Will had obviously been drinking. Nothing else could account for such foolish ramblings. Clearly he was so upset over Djaq's plan to leave that he had gone out and gotten himself drunk. Foolish fellow.

"A _baby_? Nah! _Our_ Djaqy? Can't be! Where'd you get a stupid idea like that, mate?" Allan was certain that Will had been knocking back a few. Djaq didn't even seem to like men much. Not in _that_ way, anyway. He had been flirting with her for ages now and she never gave him so much as a peck on the cheek. Course, that's why he kept on flirting. If she had ever acted the least bit interested, things would have gotten very weird, very fast. Sure, she teased right along with him, but he always knew she wasn't _that_ type of woman. And he had never seen her spending time with anyone in the villages. Nah. Will must've gotten it wrong. Maybe Allan should go and talk to her himself.

"Will, did she tell you that she's...pregnant? Since when? Did she say who the father is?" Robin could not quite wrap his mind around this. Is _that_ why she wanted to leave? Was she planning on running off with some young man? But who? She had never mentioned anyone. Although he knew that she was a very private person in many ways. Still, this seemed very unlike the woman he thought he knew.

"_I'll kill him!_" John shouted, making Will jump rather badly. Poor fellow. Had the lad been drinking? He sure was nervous. It didn't surprise John. He knew that Will cared for Djaq and must be devastated to find out about this. But John would most assuredly make whoever it was very sorry for taking advantage of her. Although he was surprised that she'd even allowed anyone to get that close without sending them away with a big black eye. She usually took care of herself just fine.

"I am." Will said. But no one seemed to pay him any mind. They all started to talk over one another. So he cleared his throat and said louder, "_I_ am. I'm the father. It's my child."

Silence filled the room as he squirmed and looked down at the floor under the shocked looks they suddenly shot in his direction.

Once he had their undivided attention, he proceeded to tell them the story of the storm and the cave. He told them it had only been one time. He didn't go into any detail, but he told them enough to make them understand that she had regretted things and that he'd tried to do the right thing by her and get married but she wouldn't consider it. He told them that, although _he_ loved _her_, she was not in love with him and that she felt that everything had been a mistake. He told them about how she'd wanted things to go back to normal and he explained that he'd only just found out about the baby. And that she said she would stay and marry him but that she wanted everything to be as it once was. She did not want to discuss what had happened and she wanted to live her own life as she had always done.

The lads all seemed to understand how difficult and uncomfortable the entire declaration was for him, so, thankfully, they asked only necessary questions and seemed to pass no judgments. Will was relieved when they did not outright blame him for disrespecting Djaq and crossing the boundaries they had all set up for themselves with her. He could tell by their sympathetic nods and glances at him that they knew how much he loved her and understood the hurt and helplessness he was feeling.

Their reaction to the news made Will hopeful that things could be worked out to Djaq's satisfaction. But he knew that there was still a chance that things might not go his way. After all, a pregnant outlaw would be difficult enough to accommodate, but one such as Djaq, who would insist on being treated as one of the men, made it all the more complicated. Add to that the prospect of a child in the forest with them, and you had a real problem.

So he finished his explanations and readied himself for any arguments that might arise.

"So she won't leave and you guys'll get married, then. Right? I mean, like you said, nothing much will be different really. Why wouldn't we agree?" Allan thought that there could be little to discuss. Djaq was staying and she and Will would work everything out. Where was the downside?

"It's not that simple lads." Robin felt compelled to add. He knew that the others were not taking everything Will was proposing into account properly. They were mainly concerned with keeping one of their own. "For many reasons. First of all, I don't even know if you and she _could_ marry, Will. You're of different faiths. Remember? And even if you could, are you sure that this is what you want to do? Is this what _she_ wants? Djaq is a very unique woman. She is not going to make a typical English wife. I know that you want her to stay with us, Will, but are you sure that you're not forcing her into something she does not want?" Robin wanted to be supportive but he wondered if Will had given this enough thought.

Everyone just stared at him.

"I'm sorry." Their leader continued. "I don't mean to make this more difficult for you, my friend, but we have to be fully prepared for what we're getting into here. It's my responsibility as leader to consider everything. And you have to look at this from her side as well. You cannot only think of yourself and what you want." Robin tried to gently remind the young man of the realities of what he was proposing.

"What? Don't be daft. Why wouldn't she want to marry him? They're having a kid!" Allan still could not quite figure out why all of this discussion was really needed. Will loved Djaq and she must at least like him an awful lot considering she, well, _you know_. And now she was having a kid. It made sense that they'd get married and then she wouldn't leave. Her staying was the bottom line as far as he was concerned. He really did not want her to go. What would life in Sherwood be without Djaq?

"That's right. And she can't go traveling back to the Holy Land in her condition. She _must_ stay here." Much added helpfully. He was startled at how he and Allan seemed to suddenly be in agreement on so many things, and he was really becoming aggravated by all of Robin's nay-saying.

Will swallowed hard. He didn't want them to know how afraid he was of not only losing her and the baby, but also of what could happen to her on her own. He was trying so hard to keep it together. "I don't think she was really going to _go_ to the Holy Land, Much. Remember all the stuff she's told us about how women have to behave over there? And how, if her people knew about her cutting her hair and dressing in trousers and not wearing a veil, they would disown her? You've told us about the way that the Saracens protect and guard their women, Robin. So just imagine if she showed up there with no husband and a half-English baby. I don't think they would take kindly to that and make her feel welcome."

"So what are you saying?" Robin wanted to know.

"I think she was just going to run away without anywhere to go. We can't let her _do_ that. This is her home. Besides, she shouldn't be alone now. She's going to need help whether she admits it or not." Will exhaled deeply and ran his hands through his hair. He took a seat near the fire and continued in a quieter tone. "I can't lose her. Especially not now. Please, Robin. Marry us and then help me make her comfortable here so she won't go. Please. Everyone must agree to her terms or she will not consider it."

"But you have not answered my question. Does _she_ want this?" Robin pressed.

"No! No she doesn't really _want_ any of this. Can you blame her?" He was close to breaking down and his voice shook with desperation. "Do you think she wants a child and a husband? You know how she is and how hard she tries to let us know she never needs anyone. But we want the child to have a name...my name, and she needs to erase what she thinks of as her dishonor." Will was finding it very hard to talk about these private matters in front of the whole gang. He was a private person by nature and he felt embarrassed and exposed. But he would do whatever he could to make her happy and feel that she could stay.

"But more than that," he continued, "she wants to stay here and be a regular part of the gang...go on missions for as long as she can. That's important to her. She needs us to try not to get in her way. She's a physician and she'll know when to slow down and stay back. But she and I won't be..." Here was the humiliating part. He couldn't even guess what their reaction to it would be. "We won't really be..._together_. I mean we'll be married but only for the sake of propriety. Things will be as they used to be between us. We'll be _friends_...that's all. It's what she wants." He was relieved to find that no one questioned him, at least. But their averted glances told him more than enough about what they thought of this. They must pity him and think him a fool. He looked at the ground once again.

Then he looked up and addressed them all. "So there can be no teasing her about our relationship or anything. She's easily upset now and I really need this to work. I'll do whatever it takes. If we can't all agree on this, she says she won't stay. And if she leaves...I...I'll have to follow her. But I can't lose her. Not now. I just can't." He was almost beyond caring about what a fool he must appear to them. He needed their help and just hoped he could count on them.

"Steady, boy." Will felt a big hand placed firmly on his shoulder and looked up at the man it belonged to. "You don't need to explain. You're looking out for your family. You're a good lad. Don't you worry. Neither one of you are alone. We take care of our own here. We'll all work to make this right." John announced, looking pointedly at each man in turn, which seemed to effectively put an end to the discussion.

Will was relieved to hear that John was on his side. John, more than anyone, knew what it was to lose your family, Will knew, and he seemed determined to help. Will was even more relieved when Robin sighed and nodded his agreement. He already knew that Much and Allan had no objections.

Will, more hopeful than he had been in several weeks, immediately turned towards the camp entrance in order to go and deliver the news to the waiting Djaq. He had just enough time to call out "Thanks." over his shoulder before bolting out the door.

The others watched him go and silently exchanged worried glances that clearly conveyed that none of them was quite sure what to think of all that had transpired. But one thing was certain, they knew that they were all unified in their desire to keep Djaq, and now the child she carried, in England with them. For everyone's sake, but especially for the young carpenter who, they were sure, would be lost without her.

"Let's just be very careful to treat Djaq as we always have. Just like one of the lads. That's going to be more important to her now than ever." Robin reminded everyone...well he mostly reminded Allan and Much who seemed the most likely to say something careless. John grunted his agreement while Much and Allan both expressed indignation that anyone should think that they needed reminding. Robin chuckled at the pair who, after so much time spent bickering with each other, had finally found some common ground.

As Djaq sat by the stream, waiting for Will's return, she chastised herself for allowing her emotions to overcome her reason. She had always been a rational woman before this. Even after the night she spent with Will in the cave she had managed to regain control of her senses and and her focus almost immediately. But being with-child was something that her mind and body seemed totally unprepared for.

She knew that it would be even more important to be in control of herself now that the gang would be tempted to treat her like an invalid. They would want to protect her from every little thing and she could not allow that kind of thinking to ruin everything that she had worked so hard for: equality and respect. Plus, she could no longer deny the realities of her situation, and the sooner she started accepting that her life would be changing, the better able she would be to deal with it. She was not the type of person to hide from her troubles, and she could not afford to start now.

She heard him approaching and readied herself to face him with a renewed sense of purpose. It was going to take a great amount of effort to keep her part of their agreement and have things return to pre-cave status between them. She would have to be strong, yet she would have to be very careful not to shut him him out or treat him with coldness. He deserved at least her kindness. But it would be so easy to lose herself in him right now. She would simply have to keep her guard up so that she was not tempted to give into what she felt for him. It would only complicate everything. That was all there was to it.

As he approached her, Will said a silent prayer of thanks to God for making everything work out so far. He knew that they had a long way to go, but he couldn't help but feel hopeful. As an afterthought, he muttered a quiet prayer to Allah as well, just for good measure. He was not even certain if Allah accepted prayers in English, but, seeing as his child would be watched over by both gods, he thought that he should at least give it a try.

When she heard him approaching, she turned to face him. He could tell that she had recovered from her breakdown earlier. He was glad for her, but also a bit sad. For in her moment of anguish, she had actually allowed him to hold and comfort her, and that had gone a long way towards soothing his broken heart.

"Well?" she prompted, looking him straight in the eyes.

"Everything is set. They know and they are more than happy that you're staying. They want to try to make you as comfortable as possible." He mentally delivered another quick prayer to each of their gods hoping that she had not changed her mind about staying.

"Thank you, Will." She said, surprising him.

"What for?"

"I know that this is hard for you and you are being very understanding. I am sorry that I tried to take your child from you by running off. It was foolish and unfair. You deserve better." As she said this, she got up and began walking towards the camp, passing him in the process.

He turned and followed her, unable to think of anything appropriate to say and marveling at her sudden change in attitude towards him. Although it was not her heart she offered him, it was, at least, a hand in friendship. And that was something he'd begun to fear he'd never be offered again.

When Djaq entered the camp, followed by Will, four pairs of eyes met hers immediately. Words of greeting were muttered on all sides, and then three pairs of the eyes quickly looked anywhere but at her. One pair, however, belonging to a man of very little tact, stayed trained on her as she crossed the small room to her bunk.

"Aren't you going to finish your supper?" He inquired anxiously. "I saved it for you. You're eating for two, after all, and you must have proper nourishment."

Clearly, no one was expecting such a blunder so soon after their unanimous agreement that none of them would do anything to make the only female member of the gang feel uncomfortable about her situation. So they all just stared at the speaker, who was, of course, Much, with shocked expressions and their mouths wide open.

Until, that is, they heard Djaq begin to laugh.

"Oh, Much! Leave it to you." She said through her laughter, grateful to have the tension broken. "Well, at least it is out in the open now. But I am not hungry tonight and I do _not_ need fussing over. Thank you, though. For caring. I am tired. Good night, all."

And with that, she climbed into her bunk and pulled her curtain closed. After a few exchanged glances and a few more moments of silence, the others followed her example and made their way to bed as well. So ended the night of revelations, but they were all rather certain that the drama was far from over...


	4. A Good Day's Work

**A Good Day's Work**

The morning after the night of revelations had all of the markings of a typical day in the forest. The days were beginning to turn warmer and the birds were announcing their return from their winter exile with cheerful chirping calls that made waking up a little more pleasant for the outlaws.

Much rose from his bed and happily went about the business of making breakfast for the group. Well, perhaps not happily, but willingly, none the less. It wouldn't hurt for someone else to take the initiative one fine morning, he thought. What he wouldn't give to be able to be the one to sleep in once in a while and just wake up to find that breakfast was waiting for _him _for a change! _Sigh._

As he absently scanned the bunks of his fellow outlaws, off in dreamland awaiting the fruits of his labors, his eyes fell on Djaq's bunk. She was still in it, he could tell, because her curtain was open and he could see her lying there with her back to the camp. But he knew that she always kept her curtain closed at night, so she must have awoken early, gotten up, and then gone back to sleep. She must be extra tired these days, what with the baby and all. He determined to be as quiet as possible so as not to wake her.

He usually enjoyed banging pots and pans around the kitchen in the mornings. He liked the little thrill of irritating the others as they tried to sleep as late as they could. It was his way of paying them back for all of the nasty things they said about him and his cooking and for generally not appreciating everything he did for them. After all, who kept the camp tidy and made certain that everyone ate? Who mended the holes in capes and socks and blankets without ever muttering a word about it?

Well, alright. So he may have muttered a word or two _occasionally_. But that was only because no one ever bothered to mention his many contributions. They just acted like it was his job. Well it was _not_ his job! And a man could only take so much. So he took a great deal of pleasure in making as much noise as he possibly could in the mornings ordinarily. But today he would keep it down and try not to wake the little "mother-to-be." He chuckled at the title he had mentally bestowed upon her.

Boy, if she ever heard him refer to her that way, she'd be banging _his head_ with pots and pans. He shuddered at the thought. He'd have to watch what he said to her from now on. That little slip up last night about eating for two could have earned him a punch from her, not to mention from the others, who had been none too pleased with him for it. But she had simply laughed. _Phew!_ She must have been too exhausted after all of the evening's events to get very angry. Still, he'd better not push his luck in the future.

_Hmm now let's see, will it be eggs or porridge today?_ Maybe both? After all, Djaq was eating for two now.

Djaq lay with her back to the camp and tried hard to return to sleep. She was surprised to find herself rather hungry, though she figured that having skipped most of dinner the night before probably accounted for some of it. Plus, she had awoken early with one of her now all too familiar bouts of sickness. She had begun to think that she was getting used to the turmoil in her stomach, but this time had been particularly bad and had lasted for quite a while.

But finally, after emptying her stomach of all of its contents, _and then some it seemed_, she had made her way to the stream in order to splash some refreshingly cool water on her face. Then, feeling slightly better, she headed back towards camp and crawled into her bunk, determined to get back to sleep.

But now Much was awake and was humming some irritating English ditty. At least he wasn't making his usual racket this morning. Maybe she could just ignore the humming and get back to sleep until the others started to rise. They would have a busy day ahead of them making deliveries and Djaq wanted to be alert and ready to prove that she was as capable as ever.

The rest of the gang awoke eventually and enjoyed a leisurely breakfast of porridge and eggs.

"So, Much. Why are we getting two breakfasts for the price of one today?" Allan wanted to know.

"Well, I just couldn't make up my mind between the two. That's all. No ulterior motive. None at all." He grinned happily as he beamed at the way that Djaq seemed to have a renewed appetite.

"Um, okay. You feeling alright there, Much? What's with the stupid grin?" That fellow was as weird as they come sometimes.

"I'm fine, Allan. And can't a person just be happy in the morning? Spring is arriving, birds are singing, and little mothers-to-be all over the forest are preparing cozy little nests for their young. What could be nicer?" Just look at the way she's eating. Good for her. He knew his porridge and eggs would do the trick. She seems to be feeling better than she's felt in a while. She sure was lucky to have him looking out for her. Oh, she's looking this way. Uh oh.

"So Robin, what is the plan for today's deliveries?" Djaq asked their leader after glaring at Much with a look she hoped he knew meant _quit grinning at me that way you ninny._

"The usual. Will, you and Allan go to Clun. John and Much will take Nettlestone and Djaq, you and I will head to Loxley." Robin could not help but note the look of irritation that passed over Djaq's face as he explained the day's pairings to them. She covered it quickly, however. She was not stupid, he knew. She would know that he wanted her with him so that he could talk with her privately about everything that had taken place with her and was yet to happen. He also knew that Will would probably not want her questioned, but it was Robin's job to look after all of them, and he needed to find out where Djaq stood.

Everyone simply nodded and continued with their meal and their chatter until it was time to get ready to go.

As Will and Allan headed off in the direction of the village of Clun, Will tried to work up the nerve to say what he knew needed saying. He was usually a man of few words, and yesterday's rather public declarations had left him feeling exposed and uncomfortable. He ordinarily took his time in thinking things over before summing up his findings in as few words as possible. It was not, as many people seemed to believe, because of some sort of shyness on his part. He just couldn't ever see the need for using twenty or thirty words to convey something that could be just as easily stated in five or six. That was just his way.

But his companion was a man of a great many words. _Too_ many. Sometimes Allan talked non-stop from the time they left camp in the morning to the time they returned. It usually suited Will just fine, though, as it enabled him to listen and think and pass no hasty judgments.

But today his companion was as quiet as he was. That was just strange. Will knew that Allan must be thinking about what he'd learned last night. How could he not be? But Will feared that there was more to his silence than that.

"I...uh...I guess you and I should probably talk." Will offered, hoping Allan would take up the conversation from there.

But Allan simply looked at him expectantly, as if waiting to hear what he had to say.

"I mean, you must have something you want to say, now that it's just the two of us." Will tried again.

"What d'ya want me to say, mate? I figured that if you wanted to talk about it, you would. I'm no good with the serious stuff, ya know. But I'm here if you wanna talk or whatever."

"Oh. Well, um, I thought that you would probably be upset or whatever. About Djaq and me. I mean, there _is_ no Djaq and me now, but...well...you know what I mean." Why was Allan making this more difficult than it had to be? It was not as if the whole world didn't know that they both had feelings for Djaq. The two had never talked about it, but it was there, between them.

"Why would I be upset? I know you care about her, and I know you wouldn't do nothing to hurt her. What are you getting at, Will?"

"Are you really going to make me say it, Allan? I know that you love her too. So you must be really angry at me for being with her."

"'Course I love her. She's Djaq. But it ain't my place to be angry over what went on between you two. I mean, sure, if it was anyone else who put the moves on her, I'd probably be thinking about smashing his head in. Come to think of it, I'd probably have to get in line behind John for that one." He mused.

"Hey, you remember when she first joined us and John took me and you aside and threatened to skin us alive if we stepped out of line with her? He kinda made himself her honorary protector that day. And he ain't likely to give up the job now. But you ain't got nothing to worry about. You heard what he said last night. He gets it. You love her. You're not just messing around with her. We all get it." Allan looked over at Will, hoping that he had managed to alleviate some of his concerns.

"You know what I mean, Allan. You don't feel for her the way that John does. Or even Much or Robin. John sees her as a daughter or something and Much looks at her like he would a sister. And Robin...well, I think he actually is the only one of us who sees her as just 'one of the lads'. For real, I mean. I think he probably forgets half the time that she _is_ a girl. That's probably what she wishes we would all do. But you aren't like that, are you? You love her like I do." Will could not meet his friend's gaze as he spoke. This was something that should have been discussed between them a long time ago.

"What? Whoa. Hold it right there." Allan stopped walking and unslung the burden he was carrying from his shoulder and placed it on the ground in front of him. He turned to Will and stared at him incredulously. "What the hell are you saying? You think that I'm in love with Djaq? Why? What gave you _that_ idea? That totally _wrong_ idea, I might add!"

"Come on, Allan. We said so at the same time...in front of everyone. Hell, even Marian was there to hear it. You can't deny it now. We should have cleared the air before now. I guess I always told myself that it didn't matter. That nothing could ever come of the feelings either of us had for her, so it wasn't worth bringing up. But now you must feel betrayed, or angry at least. You can tell me." Will was feeling emboldened by his irritation at Allan's denials. But maybe he was being unfair in expecting Allan to unburden his heart to him. Maybe he was feeling so awkward at having just recently opened his own heart publicly, that he wanted his friend to be in the same boat with him. Great. Now he felt even worse. He should have left poor Allan to his thoughts.

"You aren't talking about that day that Djaq was being held at the castle are you?" Allan asked, realization dawning on him finally.

"Yes, Allan. You know very well when I'm talking about." This was just getting stupid.

A wide grin slowly spread across Allan's face. He had always wondered why Will never talked to him, his best mate, about his feelings for Djaq. He just never realized that Will stupidly believed that he shared those feelings. Sometimes that boy really was naïve.

"Look mate, that day was tough for everyone. We were all worried about Djaq, yeah, but we were also worried about Robin flipping out and killing Gisborne. So the tension was running high that day. And when the Sheriff grabbed her back after we went to get her out, we were all trying to come up with reasons that would get Robin to snap out of it and go back with us to rescue her. So when I started thinking of how stupid Robin was being, and how worried I was at what they might be doing to her, I said the first thing I could think of which was that I liked her. I swear that's all I said. _You_ were the one who said you _loved_ her. And I meant what I said. I did like her. I still do. I like her a whole lot more now even than I did then." He paused to think about how to say what he meant so that Will would understand.

"But you gotta realize," he resumed, "I never had a friend like her before. Not just because she's a girl either. I mean, yeah, there's that. But also just the way she is. All tough and funny and clever and all that. Hell, look who I'm telling. I mean, she's great, Djaq is. And I just started thinking about how nice she was to me after what happened to my brother and how she managed to get away from the Sheriff on her own earlier that day but wouldn't leave till she knew we had got out alright. And it kinda hit me all at once. Like _Hey, I really like her and I don't want nothing bad to happen to her._ So I said what I was thinking. That I liked her. That's all. But I never meant it _that_ way. Not like you did. And I never even thought about it after that. I always figured everybody knew what I meant."

"So you never--"

"_No!_ That's what I've been saying. Look, maybe if you hadn't been _clearly_ in love with her where a person would have to be blind not to see it. Maybe then I might have given it some thought. Who knows? But you're my best mate. You both are. You two are my family. Really. I wouldn't do nothing to mess that up." Allan stopped for a moment, suddenly struck with a new thought. "Hang on a minute. So all this time you thought I loved Djaq and you still..._you know_...with her? Some friend you are." Allan accused, glaring slightly.

"Well, I..." Will's voiced trailed off as he looked at the ground sheepishly.

"It's alright, mate. I get it." Allan said in a gentler tone. "You love her. For what it's worth, I think that things'll get better for the two of you. I mean that. I know this ain't what you were hoping for with her, but just give things a chance to sink in for a while. I bet she'll come around." Allan added sympathetically.

"Yeah, maybe." Will answered in a tone that left little doubt about how unconvinced he was that things would ever be better.

They picked up their packs, slinging them over their shoulders, and continued the walk to Clun. Each one feeling a lot better about some things and a little worse about others.

Djaq and Robin had been walking for quite a while before either of them said little more than the usual pleasantries. For her part, Djaq kept hoping that Robin would just leave well enough alone. She knew that he would want to discuss her current situation, but she wished he would just wait a day or two at least. She was sorry that he had paired them together today. Almost anyone else would have been preferable.

John would have been the perfect partner for this trip. He wouldn't have brought up any unpleasant thoughts or questions. He understood that not everyone liked to talk about their troubles. Besides, the two of them actually enjoyed each other's company quite a lot, which was funny considering the differences in their ages, genders, backgrounds and personalities. But being with him was actually the only time she felt like she was spending time with an actual grown up.

Allan and Robin were far too imprudent at times on such outings and she had to resist the urge to adopt a matronly persona with them in order to keep them all focused and out of danger. She was all for having fun, but they had to be careful when visiting the villages. Their very presence could pose a threat to, not only themselves, but to the people they helped. Guards still lurked about from time to time. Not to mention the few villagers here and there who would be more than happy to pass along information about the outlaws' activities to the Sheriff and Gisborne for a few coins or an extension on their taxes.

But Allan had a habit of flirting openly with the village maidens and conning unsuspecting drunks out of their coinage. Robin, for his part, loved being recognized and thanked by everyone he'd helped. Though they were only having a bit of fun, their lack of discretion had caused the group a great deal of trouble on more than one occasion.

Much, on the other hand, was an endless worrier. He never stopped complaining about danger, hunger, cold, and anything else he could think of. He was far too vocal about every little thing and routinely had to be silenced when he started rattling off a list of his latest vexations to poor unsuspecting peasants. Robin, Will, and Djaq had told him time and again that the people in the villages had enough troubles of their own without Much adding to their worries. He meant no harm, of course, and was really the sweetest of all the outlaws, but making deliveries with him was quite trying at times.

And then there was Will, of course. He was neither too vocal nor too reckless. She was tempted to label him as perfect. He was friendly to everyone and went well beyond the call of duty when someone needed a hand. In addition to handing out food and money, he routinely made small wooden toys for the children and helped people repair fences and rooftops, among many other things. But, of course, over recent weeks he had ceased being the ideal companion for Djaq on these outings. There was still way too much raw emotion between them, at least on her part, and she was not yet comfortable enough to be completely alone with him for hours at a time. She just did not trust herself.

So that left John. The two of them could walk in silence, simply enjoying the forest sights and sounds. Or they often spoke of herbal remedies, forest tracking techniques, strange weather patterns, or any of a number of other practical topics. They were both keen observers of nature and people, and often shared knowing glances when one of the other outlaws said or did something particularly vexing or foolhardy.

But they never _ever_ pried into one another's private thoughts. They never inquired about each other's pasts or feelings. They simply respected each other as comrades and Djaq found it a refreshing change at times.

But here she was with Robin, waiting for the lecture and questions that she knew were inevitable. She had to admit to herself that, as leader, he certainly had the right to know what to expect and how best to prepare. But it would have been easier to make this trip with one of the others.

Although Much would have asked a hundred questions about Will and the baby, she could have merely tuned him out if she so wished. And Allan would probably have joked about it a bit, but would have backed off when he saw that she wasn't in the mood for it. John, of course, would have respected her privacy. And she and Will had already reached a tentative understanding about such matters.

But she could not avoid answering Robin, and she knew that he would not let up. So she walked on in silence, dreading the moment that he finally worked out what he wanted to say to her. At length, he began.

"I've been trying to decide how best to do this, Djaq, but I think that maybe I should just cut to the chase." He looked over at her while they walked, waiting for her to respond.

She didn't.

"I...uh...Well, I've already heard Will's plans and explanations, and...um...is there anything that you'd like me to know? Anything you feel you need to add?"

Good. She was secretly pleased that he was unnerved by her silence. She knew that she was being wicked, but she had no intention of making this any easier for him. It was far from easy for her, having to discuss such private matters with him, so why should it be any better for him?

"I am sure that Will has covered everything adequately." Was all she said.

_Hmm_. How on earth was he suppose to do this? he thought. He needed to know whether she was alright and if she needed anything, but he was trying to respect her wishes and not pressure her into talking about it. He wished Marian were here. She would know how to handle something that was so clearly a woman's matter.

He chuckled lightly. That was the first time he had ever thought that way about anything concerning Djaq. He was usually more than happy to regard her as one of the men in his group. No more, no less. He had never expected to be facing something like this with a member of his gang.

Djaq noticed him smirking and asked, a bit defensively, "Is something funny?"

"No...er...I was just thinking about Marian. That's all."

She seemed to accept this and they continued walking in silence a few moments more.

"Listen, Djaq." He started again, deciding to skip any questions about the actual pregnancy and focus on her plans instead. "Will spoke with me about marriage, and I told him that it would not be as simple as he seemed to think. There are certain considerations. Religion, for one. Not to mention the fact that he is an outlaw and you have no real legal status in England. I'm sorry. But I feel I must make you aware of the reality of the situation."

"I have considered these aspects, Robin." She said, surprising him. He had momentarily forgotten what a practical woman she was. Of course she would have thought it all over thoroughly many times. She rarely left matters to chance.

"And, as you say," she continued, "you have discussed them with Will. If he still wishes to go ahead with the marriage and you are willing, I have no problem accepting whatever limitations are imposed upon us. I am fully aware that any marriage between Will and myself will probably not be recognized by either of our faiths or countries. But this is important to Will and I have no objections really." She answered, hoping that was the end of the interrogation.

"It is not only about what _he_ wants, Djaq. I know how much you value your independence. I want you to know that you are not trapped. You have...options. There does _not_ have to be only one way to work this out. Your feelings are important here as well." He paused to make sure that he worded the next part properly.

"You have a home and a place here _regardless_ of your relationship with Will. Just as you always have. You are a vital member of the gang. As a fighter, a physician, and a friend. You do not have to marry him in order to stay with us. I know that it would be going against tradition and, most assuredly, the way in which you were raised, to have a child out of wedlock, but these are unusual circumstances. Our lives here are nothing if not abnormal, and we can work this out some other way, if that is what you wish." He stopped walking and waited for her to do the same.

He sincerely hoped that he had not overstepped any boundaries and that she would not misunderstand his intentions. He was not trying to talk her out of marrying Will, he only wanted her to know that she had choices and that they would all support whatever choices she made. He knew that Will had deep feelings for her and that he could be..._what was the best way to put it?_...single-minded. Yes, that was it. And he did not want Djaq getting swept up in plans that were not her own.

Djaq, for her part, was very surprised and even more touched by his words as well as the implied sentiment behind them. To know that Robin not only did not judge her for her indiscretion, but also that he valued her as much as ever and considered this her home was more than she had expected.

She was sorry that she had behaved like such a child about having this chat with him and vowed to herself to stop expecting the worst out of the people in her life. They cared about her and they deserved her trust. They had never let her down yet, and there was no reason to think that they would start now.

Robin mistook her moment of silent thought for offense, and tried immediately to make amends.

"Djaq, I didn't mean--"

"I understand, Robin. And thank you. Your words mean a great deal to me. But I am resolved to do this. This has all been a horrible ordeal and I have done nothing but make a mess of it thus far. But I am determined to make the best of things from this point on. Will wishes to give his child his surname and I think that it makes sense to allow him to do so."

"Fair enough. If you're _sure_." He wanted to quit while he was ahead, before he really did offend her, but he had one more question he needed answered. He felt certain that he knew the answer, but he had to ask it anyway.

"One more thing. Oh boy. This is going to be hard to ask you, and I feel like an idiot even thinking this. Especially considering that I've known Will his whole life and I know what kind of young man he's grown into. But...well...you seem to be consumed with...well...such feelings of disgrace and...I guess that what I really wanted to ask you was whether it was possible that Will...er...he didn't...did he perhaps _misread_ your intentions that night and maybe...Djaq, you _did_ consent, didn't you? I mean, Will didn't--"

"Robin! I...Will would never...that is just--" She looked ready to lunge at him.

"Alright. Alright." He said throwing his hands up in a sign of surrender. "I'm sorry. I just had to be sure."

"Well now you are sure. Are there any more unpleasant and impertinent questions you wish to ask? Or may we proceed to Loxley now? We are expected." She knew that her face was turning an incredibly vibrant shade of red. Partly because she was very ashamed that her feigned indifference toward the child inside of her, as well as its father, had led anyone to even half consider such a terrible thing about Will, when nothing could be further from his true behavior. And partly because of where her mind ended up when she allowed herself to remember that night.

Her mind flashed back to the gentle way that he'd held her and kissed her and kept her warm. The way that he had asked her over and over if she were alright and if she wanted to stop. The way that he'd looked down at her with such adoration and sweetness. She shook off these images and turned to glare at Robin instead.

"Yes, of course. I _am_ sorry, Djaq." He said truthfully.

"It is fine. I understand." And she did. But she was more than ready to have this awkwardness over.

"To Loxley, then." He said, a little too loudly as he took off at a run toward his former home, a big grin on his face in anticipation of the welcome and admiration he would undoubtedly receive there.

"To Loxley." She smiled, shaking her head indulgently at the way he could go from serious leader to overgrown child in a matter of seconds. Marian must have her hands quite full with that one, Djaq mused.

Once they reached the village and made their scheduled drop-offs, Djaq expected to have to pry Robin away from his adoring fans as usual. But, to her surprise, he needed no prodding.

"I was thinking. I should probably check on things in Knighton. It's not a bad idea to keep an ear to the ground, you know. There maybe something we need to know. And I--"

"_Go_, Robin! Go and see Marian. No explanations needed. I will see you later at the camp. Be careful." She laughed as he took off as fast as if an army were on his heels.

"I'm always careful." He called out in mock indignation over his shoulder.

When Robin reached Knighton Hall, he pulled his hood up over his head and stealthily made his way to the back of the house, tapping three times at the servants' entrance. It would not bode well for Marian and Sir Edward if he were to be seen paying a visit. In fact, he should have waited until nightfall, as he usually did, but he had so much on his mind right now.

He was feeling a lot of pressure over making the right decisions where the Will and Djaq situation was concerned, and he really needed Marian's wise words and sympathetic ears. Not to mention her lovely lips, if she were so inclined.

Sarah, the cook, recognized the knock and opened the door, giving him a disapproving glare and click of the tongue as she did so. It was not the man himself she disapproved of, only the danger he could mean for her master and mistress. But she knew that her mistress would rather have him inside the house than out of doors where he could be seen.

Sarah always marveled at the way he seemed to think that merely covering his head with a dirty old hood would hide his identity. Now, whenever anyone spotted a hooded figure walking about, they naturally took him for Robin Hood or one of his men. She clucked at him once again and frowned when he flashed her what he seemed to think was a charming smile.

She sighed and led him into her kitchen and up the back stairs where she left him in order to fetch the Lady Marian.

Marian was in her father's bedchamber, reading to him as he tried to get some sleep. He had been feeling poorly lately and had been unable to relax at all. The young woman looked up from her reading to see Sarah standing in the doorway and understood instantly, by the woman's hesitation, that the interruption had something to do with Robin. She checked to be certain that her father had, indeed, drifted off to sleep before quietly making her way out the door and down the hall to where Robin waited.

"Hello, gorgeous." He said, leaning in to give her a light kiss to the lips. But, as she had anticipated this and turned her head at the last moment, he ended up kissing her cheek instead, which suited her just fine.

"Hello, yourself. To what do I owe this unexpected daytime visit?" She turned with a small smile and led him to her chamber, garnering more disapproving looks from Sarah.

"Can't a man pay a visit to the woman he loves without a reason? Can not the pleasure of your company be reason enough?" He followed her into the room and sat down on her bed, patting the space next to him suggestively.

She ignored the invitation and chose to stand. "Surely you did not risk coming here in the light of day just so that you could tease me with your flirting? You know that my father is under scrutiny, Robin. We have to be very cautious. Besides, he is feeling unwell as of late and I do wish to be away from his side for long. Why have you come?"

Robin was taken aback by her brusque manner. He knew that he had been selfish and careless coming to her during daylight hours, and he had not even considered that she might be having troubles of her own. He hung his head, ashamed of himself.

He knew that even a suspected association with him could mean death or exile to Marian and her father, and yet he routinely visited her to ask for her help and to simply steal a few moments of her time for his own selfish amusements. He knew the hardships of outlawed life, and couldn't believe that he could be so careless as to place the woman he loved in danger. He would have to be much more careful in the future.

Marian saw the look of sorrow pass over his face and her heart softened. She had not really meant to be harsh with him, she had been worried about her father and had also been a bit embarrassed by Sarah's look in the hall. She knew that Robin would not knowingly place her in any danger and that he must have had a good reason for coming. Even if it was just to see her. In truth, that reason was fine with her.

"Forgive my rudeness." She said in a gentler voice, coming to take a seat on the opposite end of the bed from where he sat. "I was worried over my father's health. But that is no excuse. Of course you are welcome here. Now tell me, why have you come?"

He looked at her and smiled, but she noticed that it did not quite reach his eyes. He was troubled and tired.

"Oh Marian. You will not believe what has been going on. I hope that I can rely on your wise counsel in this matter, for I swear to you, I am at a loss as to how to proceed. I fear that recent events will end up tearing my gang apart." He ran his hand through his hair and took a deep breath before beginning his tale.

Several hours later, as Robin walked into the camp and was greeted by several muffled 'hellos' as the gang stuffed their faces with bread and rabbit, he found that he felt a lot better about what was to come. Marian had helped to ease his mind quite a bit. The rest, he knew would probably have to work itself out. But for today, they were all here and safe and the people of Nottingham had been given enough to get them through another couple of days. In Robin's book, that was a good day's work.

"Oh Djaq?" He scanned the small space, locating the petite Saracen sitting between John and Allan beside the fire. "Could you find the time to stop by Knighton Hall sometime tomorrow to pay a visit to Sir Edward? He is unwell and I told Marian that you wouldn't mind offering him a second opinion. His physician has been to see him, but perhaps you can be of more help."

"Yes, of course, Robin. What seems to be his trouble?" She inquired, immediately shifting into her "serious physician" mode.

"Something to do with his legs. I am not really certain. But apparently he is unable to get around very well."

"I will go in the morning." She said before resuming her meal.

"Thank you." He said to her, reaching for his own bowl which Much had filled when he'd entered and was now holding out to him.

Much, who thought that _he_ was being thanked, couldn't stop smiling for the remainder of the evening.


	5. Unrequited

**Unrequited**

Djaq awoke just before dawn the next morning to what had become a familiar feeling. She leaped out of her bed and charged towards the door, nearly colliding with John, who was entering after just finishing up his shift on watch.

After several minutes, she returned and smiled when she noticed that the big man had waited for her. For some reason, she rarely minded it when he looked out for her a little more than she might have accepted from the others. And he was always very careful never to fuss over her, and only offer help when he could tell that she really needed something.

"Good morning, John. Sorry about that." She offered quietly, so as not to wake the others, as she gathered up her medical supplies and stuffed a few herb bundles into her pouch.

"Morning. No need to be sorry. Y'alright?"

"Yes." She sighed a little, which was unusual for her. She never used to let anything get her down mentally or physically. "I am fine. I am still getting used to the little inconveniences of this condition, I suppose."

He merely nodded. He didn't really think she would want to talk about it any further. Besides, seeing Djaq this way only served as a painful reminder that he had left his own sweet Alice alone in such a state. He couldn't allow himself to think of how different things might have been had he known.

"I am off to see Sir Edward. I want to make it there before the roads fill up. I do not wish anyone to see me near Knighton Hall. Please tell Robin where I have gone." With that, she smiled at him once again and made her way out the entrance.

Little John bid her a quiet farewell and crossed the few steps to his bunk to join the rest of the gang in slumber.

As Djaq started on the somewhat lengthy walk to Knighton, she thought over what she had said to John about the inconveniences of her condition. She kept trying to tell herself that she just needed time to adjust to the changes her body was experiencing. But she knew that she could not hide from the realities forever. Things were going to get much worse for her before they got better.

She probably still had months of nausea to look forward to, not to mention the now almost constant need to relieve herself. Then there would come the time when her clothing became too tight to accommodate her growing body as well as a greatly increased need for sleep in the not too distant future. She had a long and uncomfortable road ahead of her.

She was also struck by how little she knew about her condition beyond the very basics. Of course, she had never felt the need to learn about this distinctly female ailment while studying medicine under her father's guidance. Physician's rarely had anything to do with the birthing process unless there were serious complications putting the mother's life in jeopardy.

Djaq had perused some of her father's medical texts from time to time and had seen enough general guidelines and roughly drawn diagrams to have given her a very basic understanding of the entire process. But child-delivery was almost always left up to the women of a community, whereas Djaq's expertise had always been in the treatment of wounds, minor surgery, and general healing. She had never even thought of extending her knowledge into the areas of female reproduction. She had never thought it necessary before now.

So here she was, a physician and a woman, completely out of her element. Her own mother had died when Djaq and her brother were very small, and there hadn't been any aunts or grandmothers close enough to absorb such knowledge from. And she hadn't really missed the little life lessons that women taught their female charges. She had always been much more comfortable in a man's world. The world of a soldier, doctor and alchemist. Even when that world would not accept her as a woman.

That was another thing she had been contemplating lately. The few years she'd spent living under the cloak of her brother's identity, both as a soldier and then a slave, had been trying at times. She was, after all, still very much a woman under the boyish hair and clothes and walk. So it had been a constant struggle to force her body to comply with the deception. There were things that her body was naturally made to do and it had taken every survival instinct she'd possessed just to keep the inner workings of her anatomy under wraps.

She had had to wait to relieve herself until the men around her were deep in sleep, just to be certain that no one caught a glimpse of the very unmanly way in which she had to squat to meet her most basic of needs. And then there had been the nearly impossible task of hiding her monthly episodes. She still could not believe sometimes that she had managed for so long without being discovered.

She had been so terribly grateful for the opportunity to put all of that behind her when she joined Robin's gang openly as a female. Of course, she still did not announce these occurrences to anyone, but her life and her honor no longer depended upon them remaining secret.

But now it almost seemed as if her body were trying to pay her back for all of those incredibly uncomfortable moments of forced compliance. It was as if her body was rebelling against her in the worst possible way. As if it were screaming out for all the world to hear, "_I am female and I will not be silenced any longer_!" And she really just wanted it all to be over. She did not know how she would ever make it through the next several months until she could get her life and her body back the way she preferred them: under her own control.

The sun was just peeking over the horizon when she reached the former sheriff's back door. She laughed to herself as she tapped out Robin's absurdly simple "secret knock" and waited to be greeted. She was, evidently, expected and was let in by the family's cook and asked to wait in the kitchen while the lady of the house was fetched. She nodded, removing her hood as she did so.

Marian came down shortly, looking as if she had been roused from a rather deep sleep, and smilingly bade Djaq to follow her up the stairs where she would alert her father to the physician's arrival.

Sir Edward Fitzwalter was sitting up in bed as she entered the room. Brief introductions were made as the two had yet to cross paths in any considerable way beyond being in the same room together for a moment or so at the same time on a few occasions. He attempted to smile pleasantly, but Djaq noticed the distinct look of a man indulging his only daughter. He clearly did not wish for her services but hadn't the heart to refuse Marian's wishes.

"Good morning Sir. I shall not trouble you for long, I assure you." Djaq began pleasantly, and then, turning to Marian, said, "If your father has no objections, Lady Marian, I should like to examine him in private, if I may. I find that it is easier for all involved."

Marian was taken aback at being asked to leave, albeit it ever so politely, by the woman whose assistance she herself had requested. But, after a slight nod and smile from her father, she agreed saying, "Yes, of course. I will be in the hall if I am needed. You are in good hands, Father, I promise you."

When Marian had gone out of the room and pulled the door behind her, Djaq stepped closer to the bed and, slipping out of physician mode for a moment, said very quietly, "We need not continue with this if you do not wish it. I am more than happy to tell your daughter that I have seen enough and that I have no objections to you continuing your regular physician's treatment of your illness. It is entirely up to you."

Sir Edward looked up at her with a look that clearly showed not only his surprise, but a touch of embarrassment as well. He had not realized that his thoughts were so easily decipherable.

This newfound knowledge added yet another level to the regrets he carried at not being able to hold onto his position in Nottingham and spare his people the cruel tyranny of the current Sheriff. He had never been a shrewed man politically, preferring instead to speak his mind and trust in the even hand of justice. Sadly, Vaisey's sweeping reign of terror had left him unable to do either any longer. But if this stranger could cut to the core of his feelings in the space of two minutes, what hope had he of playing the Sheriff's game and winning?

He was pulled out of his reflections by the pair of large brown eyes that locked with his, awaiting his response to her offer.

"That is very kind of you, my dear, but, seeing as my daughter has brought you all this way, I should at least take advantage of your skills." He said kindly.

As Marian paced up and down the hallway, waiting for Djaq to finish examining her father, she thought about what Robin had confided in her yesterday about Djaq. She had noticed that Djaq was not herself the last few times she had seen her, but she had assumed that the men were getting on her nerves.

Marian thought about life in the forest quite a lot. And she had always thought that it must be a hard life for a woman to live--being in the forest with only men--and she had often admired the strength it must take to put up with it day after day. But, apparently, Djaq's troubles went far deeper than that.

Marian found that she had the oddest mix of emotions over the news. She was somewhat surprised, of course. Although, once she had had a moment to consider it, she found that she wasn't nearly as shocked about the situation as she might have been. After all, she knew that Will had been in love with Djaq for a while now. And although she hadn't been certain about _Djaq's_ feelings, she'd had her suspicions.

But she was also worried. Djaq was going to have a difficult time of it from now on. The forest was not the ideal place for an expectant mother to be living. And it was certainly no place for a child.

And the romantic in her was actually rather pleased to find that Djaq returned Will's feelings. Marian had often thought of intervening, since the day she'd found out how Will felt, and trying to set the stage for a little forest romance between the two. It seemed that they hadn't needed her help, however.

But there was something else. Marian could not quite put her finger on it. She felt the tiniest twinge of something hidden and primal when she thought of Djaq, Will and their child-to-be living out their days and nights in the forest together. About them abandoning any concern for what anyone else might think and simply following their hearts.

Marian was shaken out of her reverie when she heard Djaq leaving her father's bedchamber. She walked toward the room in order to meet her and inquire about him.

"How is he? Can you do anything for him? His physician has given him a drought and has him spending all of his time in bed, but it does little to relieve his pain." She said anxiously.

"I think that I can help him, yes. But you will have to do your part as well."

"Of course. My father's wellbeing is my highest priority." She responded rather sharply, stung by the insinuation that she had not done enough for her father.

"I know that. I can see how much you worry over him. But he can see it too, and I am only saying that he might respond better to treatment if he is not coddled. His dignity is important to him. I know that you love him and it will be difficult not to treat him like he is an invalid, but it is what is best for him. This is my opinion. You do not have to accept it, of course."

"I...I will do my best. I only want what is best for him. He's already lost so much that he can never get back." Marian was surprised at Djaq's demeanor. She had expected the woman to be changed somehow. Softer, perhaps. But she was the same confident and efficient woman that Marian had always known her to be.

It was then that Marian realized why she had been so bothered over the news of Djaq's pregnancy. _I am jealous!_ She thought. She couldn't believe it, but it was true. She had always been a little envious of the way that Djaq chose her own life. She didn't let anyone else dictate who or what she was or where and how she lived. She fit right in with the men in the forest and she always held her own.

She never had to prove anything to them, either. Not like Marian, who _always_ felt like she had something to prove. She could tell that the outlaws respected Djaq and trusted her abilities. Robin never warned _her_ off of something because it might be too dangerous. He _listened_ to her ideas when she spoke.

Djaq was out there _living_ her life. While Marian spent _her_ life hiding in the shadows. She went back and forth between her father, Robin and Guy. Trying desperately to make each one understand that she could take care of herself, that she had valid ideas, that she was strong enough to stand on her own.

But she never had the courage to see it through completely. She rode around masked in the dead of night, delivering food and medicines to the poor. But during the day, she played the game. _Every_ game. The Sheriff's, Guy's, Robin's, even her father's. Yet, _there_ was Djaq, openly living in the forest with Robin and the others, helping the poor and fighting the Sheriff without a care for the judgments of others. And this wasn't even _her_ fight...it wasn't _her_ country. It was Marian's.

And now Djaq was having a child (_another dream of Marian's that had somehow gotten lost along the __way) _with a man who adored her and she was still going to keep right on living and fighting the way she wanted.

"Marian, are you alright? I did not mean to upset you. Come and sit down."

"No, I'm fine. You did not upset me. I am grateful that you took the time to check on my father. Is there anything you can do for him?" She asked, recovering herself and feeling rather foolish.

"Yes, I believe so. He is suffering because his heart is not circulating his blood properly. It is causing pain and numbness in his legs and feet. He must not be off of his feet for long periods at a time. He must break up his rest with brief walks and such. And he should also keep his feet elevated while he rests." Djaq explained as Marian listened intently.

"What has caused this? It sounds so serious." Oh dear. Her father's physician had mentioned none of this before. She could not lose her father.

"It is easily treatable, but it _can_ become serious if it is not corrected. It is usually caused by a diet of overly rich and fatty foods. He must limit the fatty meats he consumes. I will grind up a spice that I have back at the camp and I will bring it to your cook so that she can add it in small amounts to his dishes. This will aid his heart in doing its work. If these guidelines are followed, he should be fine."

"Thank you, Djaq. You are a godsend. I'll make sure that things are done just as you say. Now won't you join me in having breakfast? I'll have Sarah bring a tray to my room and you and I can talk for a bit." And she headed for the stairs in order to call down for the cook.

"No no. I would not impose upon you. I really must be getting back. I will return later with the spices for your cook. If your father needs anything else, please do not hesitate to send word to me. I will come at any time." She said as she began to head down the stairs herself.

"Please, Djaq. I will not take no for an answer. Besides, you need proper nourishment now more than ever." As soon as the words left her mouth, she knew she had made a terrible mistake.

Djaq should have expected Robin to blab the news to Marian. He was terrible at keeping secrets. And it was not as if people would not find out soon enough. But she was so unprepared for Marian's words that her eyes filled with unspilled tears. She was mortified. What an absolute fool she was. Trying so hard to stay strong and authoritative with Marian, only to start crying in the next moment. What must this woman think of her?

But Marian, after only a slight hesitation, put her arm lightly on Djaq's shoulder and led her to her bedchamber where she promptly sat her down on the bed.

"Oh, Djaq! I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have brought it up. It was thoughtless, forgive me. Are you alright?" She should have realized that Robin had been talking out of turn when he'd spoken with her last night. She should have waited for Djaq to tell her of the situation herself.

"Of course. Think nothing of it." She waved off the apology, having recovered herself sufficiently. "Of course Robin has told you. I should not be surprised. You need not be sorry."

Marian could see how uncomfortable and embarrassed the other woman was over her near loss of composure so she sat down opposite her on the bed.

"Thank you again for coming to see my father. I have not been happy with his physician for some time now." She began, talking nervously, not having any idea of what she could say or do to ease Djaq's mind.

The two women were not exactly what either would describe as close friends. They had developed a mutual respect for one another over the period of their acquaintance, but had never had the occasion to talk about anything more personal than the strategy for a particular mission that both were involved in or Marian's health following her stab wound and recovery. Marian had always thought of Djaq as somewhat of a kindred spirit, but had never quite known how to go about striking up a friendship with her.

"It was no trouble at all. He is fortunate to have such a devoted daughter." Djaq felt that she should get up to leave.

She was uncomfortable with the turn that the morning was taking. She had never been on such familiar terms with Marian before and she was not quite certain what was expected of her. She liked and respected Marian, but Djaq was very careful to always keep a comfortable distance between them. She was not looking for a best friend. But she had no desire to be rude, so she sat and waited for Marian to make the next move.

"Oh no. It is _I_ who am the lucky one. He is a wonderful father. Even when he had his duties as sheriff on top of all of his other responsibilities on the estate and the surrounding village, he always made time for me. He always made sure that I never felt alone or neglected. It couldn't have been easy for him, either. Raising me alone. But he made sure that I always felt loved and special. I have truly been blessed. Of course, I have given him his fair share of wor--" She stopped her nervous ramblings immediately when she looked up to notice that tears were streaming down Djaq's face. The other woman did not even seem aware of them as she made no visible attempt to hamper their flow or wipe them away.

"Um...Djaq? Is..is everything alright? Are you crying? Is it...Did I...Does it have to do with..." Marian had never seen her this way and had no idea what the appropriate response should be. With any other woman, she would have put her arms around her for support and let her cry on her shoulder. Somehow, that didn't seem likely to soothe Djaq. So she finally settled on, "Can I help?"

By this point, Djaq realized that she had been crying and was wishing for the ground to swallow her alive. While Marian had been speaking so lovingly about her father, Djaq had been reminded of her own father, now long dead. She debated whether or not to reveal her thoughts to Marian.

"I was thinking of my own father while you were speaking and I find that I cannot quite keep my emotions under control these days." She said carefully, waiting to see if the other woman took up the conversation. It was, after all, entirely possible that Marian was only being polite and had no desire to discuss personal matters.

"Oh? He was a physician, right? He trained you?" Marian didn't want to seem to be prying, she knew what a private person Djaq was, but she wanted to let her know that she was open to hearing whatever she wanted to talk about.

Djaq nodded, biting her lower lip.

"Is he back in your homeland? You must miss him terribly."

"He is dead. Killed by...by the English."

"Oh. I don't know what to say. I'm sorry, Djaq." _I am certainly making a mess out of this._ Thought Marian.

"Thank you. He was a great man. A gifted physician. He always made time to help people. Whether or not they could pay him. He never rested, even on holy days. Most other physicians spent holy days at home with their families, but this just made my father more determined to work. He always said that there were more people in need of his services on those days because of the shortage of other physicians out treating the sick and wounded. He said that there was no better way to praise and serve Allah on a holy day than by helping his people." She thought about this as she spoke.

She had always admired her father's skill and dedication. Since the time she could remember, she had wanted to be just like him. She would watch him going off to work and would dream of the day that she could accompany him. In fact, most of her memories of him were of him walking out the door. She had probably seen more of the back of his head than his face.

But he had been needed in the community. She could hardy begrudge him doing his duty. Besides, she and her brother had managed just fine. Sure, they _missed_ him, but they kept each other company. They were closer than any two people ever were. And then there were the few servants that the family had employed. They made sure the children ate and slept and bathed. Still, not having a mother did make their father's absences somewhat lonelier. But they had managed.

"He sounds wonderful. I'm sure he would be proud of you. You are a talented physician _and_ you spend everyday helping people in need. You've certainly followed in his footsteps. Are there many female physicians where you come from?" Marian inquired, intrigued by this glimpse into Djaq's life before England.

"Oh no. I was not able to really start practicing medicine openly until I had taken on my brother's identity." She answered, not really being certain how much Robin had told Marian about her past. Frankly, she wasn't sure how much Robin knew of it himself.

"Your brother's identity?" Marian was shocked at how little she knew about Djaq.

"Yes, did Robin never tell you?" She could feel her emotions beginning to well up inside of her at the prospect of having to dredge up all of the memories of her closeness with her brother, not to mention his tragic death and her reaction to it.

"No, I do not believe he has."

"I...I will tell you about it some day, if you like." Hopefully she wasn't being rude. She just didn't feel able to discuss this with anyone right now.

"Yes, of course. I understand. And I would like to hear it someday." Marian had no intention of pushing Djaq to open up. "Also, I wanted to say, since I have already made the blunder of bringing it up, that you have my heartfelt congratulations on your good news. And if there is anything that you need, or anything I can do for you, please allow me. It would be my pleasure. After all, you did save my life." She added smiling. She hoped she had not offended Djaq's fierce sense of pride, but she wanted her to know that she was here if needed.

"Thank you. I think that I have all that I need for now. But I will remember your offer."

"I bet that Will is excited. I'm sure he will make an excellent father. He seems so calm and patient. Does he hope for a boy? Most men want sons, don't they?" Marian was having a hard time controlling her curiosity and her enthusiasm.

She had finally, after years of waiting for Robin to return from war, put all hopes of children out of her head. But now, sitting here with Djaq, she felt all of those feelings rushing back.

"I do not know. We have not discussed it."

"Oh. Well, there's plenty of time for that, I suppose. You still have a wedding to plan, after all."

"We...we do not discuss any of those things. We are...we are_ estranged_. Is that the right word?"

"I don't know. If you mean that you are not together, then yes, I suppose it is. I thought that things were being resolved between you, though. You are getting married and he loves you so much! You must love _him_. Don't you?" She knew she should shut her mouth, but she could not stand to see two people in love kept apart.

Djaq had not intended to talk about these matters. But to hear Marian declare so passionately that Will was in love with her made her heart pound in her chest. She had been trying so hard to convince herself that the two of them could be no more than friends because anything more would complicate matters, that she had forgotten that wonderful feeling she always used to get whenever she thought of him. The way her heart used to thump so loudly that she was sure everyone could hear it.

_thump __**thump **_"I thought I did. But then we made a terrible mistake and now we are both paying the price. But he is a good man. He is trying to do the right thing for his child and me. It is very decent of him."

"You cannot be serious! He is not marrying you out of some sense of _duty_! Robin has assured me that Will is deeply in love with you. And _I _know for a fact that he has been for a while. Of course he wants to do right by the child. I would expect no less. But he wants you because of _you_, not only because you're carrying his child or out of some sense of _honor_."

"I think that you are mistaken, Marian." _thump __**thump**_ "Will and I got carried away in the cave that night. That is all. He told me that he loved me, yes." _thump __**thump**_ "But he never even mentioned marriage until after, when I told him that I regretted our encounter." She sighed.

"Clearly, he felt guilty over taking my honor." She continued. "But, believe me, it was freely given," _thump __**thump**__ thump_ _**thump**_ "so I could not accept his attempts at chivalry. He had no reason to feel obligated to me. But then later, when I told him about the child, he offered once again to marry me, but he never mentioned love." She was immediately stung by the truth of this. "I believe that he had already rid his heart of me by that time. I cannot blame him, really. I practically ordered him to. I made him believe that I did not care for him any longer and he finally accepted my words and stopped loving me. Now he only wishes to do what is right."

"But you _do_ love him?" Marian pressed.

Djaq merely nodded, again unconsciously biting her lip. _thump __**thump**_She had said more than enough already and she had no interest in giving Marian and Robin more topics for discussion while they attempted to distract themselves from their own lack of a love life.

Besides, she was surprised at what her own heart was telling her. She had a lot to think over, and she wanted to get started.

"Marian, I must go. I will be expected. Thank you for your kind words. I will return later with your father's spice."

And with that, she got up to go, leaving no room for discussion.

On the walk back to camp, she thought over her reasons for having pushed Will away from her, and as she tried to control the mad thumping in her chest, she realized that they no longer seemed valid. At first, she had been ashamed of her loose behavior with him and she had feared he would expect more of the same and not respect her any longer. But now he was to be her husband. Surely there could be no shame once they were wed.

Also, she had been afraid of losing her place in the gang. She was afraid that they would only see her as Will's woman, not herself. She cared a great deal about their respect and high opinion. But now, she and Will were marrying and things were changing anyway. Besides, everyone seemed accepting of the situation and of her role with them.

She could no longer deny the fact that she really did love him. She had never felt it as strongly as she had while talking with Marian. While she had been listing all of the reasons that Will did _not_ love her any longer, she had found herself secretly hoping that he still did. And that hope was what was driving her forward now. She wanted to get back to camp and search his eyes for some sign of the love that she had seen on that night they had shared themselves.

On that night, she had been able to forget everything outside of that cave. It was as if there had been no world except the one that the two of them created between them. And she had been so happy and had felt so safe and so loved. And she wanted to feel that again. She needed to. Especially now. She was having the hardest time dealing with the realities of her condition, but, she told herself, if by some miracle the man she loved still had a place for her in his heart, then maybe everything would be alright.

Perhaps, without even knowing it, they were sealing their hearts and futures together that night and that's why Allah had created the child in her womb. To give back to her and Will the family that both had lost to poverty and war.

As she approached the camp, she took a deep breath and prepared herself to speak with Will. She was trembling and she just hoped that she had not waited too long already.

When she got there, she was surprised to find him standing outside. He was looking in her direction, but he did not seem to see her. When she got close enough she opened her mouth to ask him if they could speak in private.

_thump **thump** thump **thump** thump **thump**_

"Hello." She began timidly.

Will had been out gathering different types of wood for a very special project he wanted to start on. He wanted to choose the sturdiest and nicest looking wood he could get his hands on. He was sitting outside of the camp, picking through his findings, when he saw Djaq approaching from a distance. She seemed to be deep in thought and hadn't noticed him, which gave him an opportunity to study her closely for the first time in weeks.

God help him, she was beautiful! And not just outside, but everything about her. Will was certain that there had never been another woman like her. He wished that there was a better word to describe her because beautiful just didn't seem to cover it.

It was nice to be able to stare at her for a few moments without being seen. As he watched her walking, he thought about how much she meant to him and how very much he loved her. Almost instantly, though, he was struck by the hopelessness of their situation.

When they had been no more than friends, before the night they'd shared, they had always been extremely close. They'd spent a lot of time together and seemed to have developed a special understanding. He had loved her for so long and had finally learned to live with the belief that he could never be more to her than a friend. But he had been alright with that. He'd accepted the limitations of their relationship. After all, he still got to see and talk to her everyday and they still had a lot of great times together, both with the gang and alone.

Then had come that night in the cave when they had shared their love, when all of his secret dreams had seemed to be coming true. When he had felt like they were joining their bodies and hearts together forever. But, in reality, it had only pulled her further out of his reach. And when he'd discovered that she was expecting his baby, he had secretly begun to hope that, if he could only get her to agree to stay, and maybe even marry him, in time they could get back to that place of love. That maybe it had all happened for a reason and they could still be happy together.

He had not even dared to tell her that he loved her then. He was far too afraid of scaring her off. He knew that she was a practical woman and was unlikely to be swayed by romantic sentiments. So he'd given her all of the practical reasons for staying and marrying him, certain that if he could only bide his time she would come around. And by some wonderful miracle she'd agreed.

But now, as he watched her approaching the camp, he was overwhelmed by the realization that, although she was about to become his wife and his precious child was at this very moment growing inside of her body, they were, in fact, farther apart now than they had ever been before. And what was worse, he now saw clearly, for the first time, that things were unlikely ever to change. She had made it clear what she wanted from him and it was _not_ love.

Given time, they might be able to be friends again, but there would never be a place for him in her heart. And the thought killed him inside. Though he knew that he'd have to get used to it. He had no choice. He would have to make himself strong and give her what she wanted. He'd show her that he could keep his word to her and not let on that he ever wanted more.

He did not want to burden her with his dashed hopes and the anguish that must surely be evident in his eyes. So as she approached the camp and stopped to say something in greeting, he muttered a hurried response and intentionally turned his face away from her, pretending to be absorbed in the wood in front of him until he was sure she had moved on and had entered the camp with the others. He did not want her to see his pain. He would just have to get better at hiding his feelings from now on. From her and from himself.

As a shaken Djaq forced herself away from Will's painfully evident disinterest in her and stepped into the shelter, holding back the feelings of foolishness and bitter disappointment that lurked just below the surface, she was nearly knocked over by Robin who was practically bouncing. He wore the wide grin of a man with a sudden purpose and had clearly been waiting to tell her something exciting. She knew him well enough to know that there must be a mission afoot.

So she took a deep breath and deliberately tucked her feelings for Will so deep down inside herself that she would never be faced with them again. She would just have to learn to make the best of her life as it was, just as she had always done.


	6. There's a Mission Afoot!

**There's a Mission Afoot**

"Where did you get this?" Djaq asked, a look of puzzlement evident on her face, as she turned the piece of parchment Robin had given her over and over in her hands. "I do not recognize this language. What does it say?"

"Well that's just it, it doesn't actually _say_ anything. Not yet." He responded, his grin widening.

Behind Robin's back, Djaq caught sight of the raised eyebrows and rolled eyes that were passing between John and Allan. They had clearly already played this game with Robin in Djaq's absence and were not too keen on going through the whole thing again.

"To make a long story short," Allan announced, trying to move things along, "it's in some sorta code but Robin _thinks_ it's from Prince John. We intercepted a messenger on his way to the deliver it to the Sheriff. So Robin copied the message and sent the fella on his merry way. Now he can't stop grinning."

"Yes, why _did_ you let him go without finding out what was going on? And you gave him back the original message. Why? Shouldn't we have kept it out of the Sheriff's hands? If it _is_ from Prince John, they can surely be up to no good together." Much asked for, apparently, not the first time today, given the look that John gave Djaq.

"Ah, but Much, I told you, that fellow was no more than an errand boy. He had no inside knowledge to offer us. Besides, you are missing the _big picture_." Robin had no intention of letting them off so easily. He loved to draw these things out as long as possible and he wasn't going to let the lads ruin his fun. "Because if we had not returned the original, we would not now have the _advantage_." Robin stressed the word in his best "mysterious wisdom" voice.

"Not bein' funny, but what advantage? I told you, from where I'm sittin' we still only got a bad copy and no idea what it says. Where's the advantage in that?" Allan shrugged and threw his hands up into the air with a look of complete exasperation on his face.

"I keep telling you, my friends, have patience. All will be revealed." And Djaq thought she saw his grin grow even wider, if that were possible.

"So," Djaq began, "you caught a messenger, who you think was from Prince John? But instead of confiscating the message he carried in order to thwart the Sheriff, you had the man wait while you got out your ink and quill and copied _his_ message onto this parchment? Then you gave him back _his_ parchment and let him go? But you have no idea what this message says and yet you are grinning like a mad fool?" Djaq thought that she was sufficiently caught up now. She was, in fact, relieved to have some means of distracting herself from the broken heart and wounded pride that had threatened to crush her but a moment ago.

"Exactly!" Robin shouted happily, now beginning to bounce around again.

Now it was Djaq's turn to roll her eyes at the others. "But why did you let him have the message back, Robin? And how will you decipher what it says? Do you know this code?" She wondered. Robin always seemed to love dropping clues to his intentions and making everyone ask a thousand questions before he would reveal his plans. It was like a game for him.

"No, but I have a friend who I feel can help us with that. He heads up a monastery a few shires over and I will leave at first light in order to take this to him. He is loyal to the King and no friend of Prince John's. And I gave the fellow back the original to deliver to the Sheriff because I didn't want the Sheriff to know we were on to him. I don't want him to change his plans now that we have knowledge of what he's up to. Not to mention our _inside man_." Robin looked around the camp for some sign that everything suddenly made sense to the men. He was met with the knitted eyebrows and wrinkled noses of confusion. Clearly, he was still the only one who got it completely.

"The _messenger_!" He said, sighing at them exaggeratedly.

"Wait, Prince John's messenger is _your_ inside man? How can that be?" Djaq was nowhere close to being caught up, apparently.

"He threatened the messenger." Came a deep matter-of-fact voice from behind her. Just the sound of it as she was trying to rid her mind of the loveless eyes of its owner was enough to make her jump like a startled fool. She turned to look at Will, who had quietly entered the camp, unnoticed, while she'd been talking with the others. "Robin told him that if he told the Sheriff about us getting our hands on the message he carried, that the Sheriff would kill him without a second thought. He convinced him that the Sheriff would be so angry that the man had allowed himself to be taken and the note to be read that he wouldn't stop to ask questions."

"So how does that now make him _Robin's_ man?" She asked, trying to control the strange mix of feelings that talking with Will in such a casual manner brought out in her.

Little John spoke up for the first time. "Robin told him that if he didn't deliver the message as if nothing had happened, and come back through here before delivering any future messages between the two, that we'd make sure the Sheriff found out that we had this copy. He agreed that it wouldn't go well for him. So Robin thinks we can trust him to go along with us." Robin had obviously already made all of the outlaws pry each bit of the plan out of him, and they were trying to spare Djaq the same fate.

"So now you see? And I have the feeling that we are onto something big here. Prince John would not bother with coded messages unless this were highly secret and _very_ important." Robin said to Djaq, smiling and nodding his head up and down in obvious agreement with himself.

"Is it not possible that the Sheriff has set this in motion merely to distract you or even to set up a trap for us? I mean, why would Prince John go to of all the trouble of sending a secret message written in an unknown language, simply to entrust it to someone stupid enough to risk it all by traveling through Sherwood forest in the middle of the day, with few or no guards, knowing there are outlaws about?" Djaq asked carefully while putting the parchment aside and sitting down at her medical station to begin the slow process of grinding up some spicy seeds into a fine powder for Sir Edward.

She knew how thrilled Robin always became over the prospect of a new way to show up the Sheriff, and she did not wish to spoil his elation. But she felt that some amount of reason should be interjected before he carried things any farther.

"Exactly!" It was Much's turn to shout. "That's what _we've_ been saying! And even if it's not some sort of trap, what makes you think that the man will be foolish enough to travel back this way rather than just running away back to London?"

"I told you. If it had been set up for our benefit, Much, the Sheriff would have made certain that it was done conspicuously in order to be certain that we took the bait. So there _would_ have been guards and the pretense of precautionary measures taken. There _were_ none because they hoped to have the messenger slip through undetected." Robin answered slowly and firmly, not appreciating the gang's attempts to dampen his spirits. "And the man _will_ comply because what I told him about the Sheriff's reaction was true. He _would_ kill him without a moment's hesitation, and the messenger knows it."

He picked up the parchment and waved it in the air. "_And _we have this copy which is clear proof that he's already put the Sheriff's plan at risk. So it's to his advantage to cooperate with us if he thinks that the result of him _not_ cooperating will be me _using_ this copy to force the Sheriff's hand. It's much safer for him to play along with us and pass us information without the Sheriff ever being the wiser. And then even when we succeed in stopping whatever dastardly deeds they have in the works, the messenger will not be suspected. See?" Robin looked around and finally saw comprehension dawning on most of their faces.

As Djaq finished grinding up the powder and funneled it into a pouch, Will made his way back towards the entrance to return to his carving project outside.

"Will?" Robin called after him.

"Yeah?"

"I want you to accompany Djaq back to Knighton Hall when she goes to take the remedy to Sir Edward. I need you to deliver a note to Marian." And he sat down to hastily scribble out a few lines on a scrap of parchment.

Both Djaq and Will turned to stare at their leader. Both were determined to make a concentrated effort to be friendly to one another and hide their feelings of love and disappointment, but neither were quite ready to trust themselves to be able to accomplish it while alone together so soon.

"Robin, _I _can take the note for you." Djaq offered rather desperately.

Will, despite not feeling ready to spend the long walk alone with her, was hurt by her evident desire to avoid his company.

"Yeah. I'm actually in the middle of something right now, anyway. Maybe Allan or John could go. Or Much." He threw out.

"No, I'm asking _you_. And I want you to escort Marian back here. There are things that I need her help with." And he folded the parchment after drying the ink and handed it to an unhappy Will.

Djaq could not help but notice the look on Will's face at the prospect of being alone with her. _He must have seen the look of love and hope in my eyes earlier, and now wants to avoid any awkwardness._ She thought. _I must do a better job of hiding it!_

"I'll go. I could use the fresh air anyway." Allan said, getting up. He saw the strain on the faces of his two best friends and wanted to spare them any awkwardness if possible. Besides, he hadn't had any time alone with Djaq since all of the news about her and Will and the baby came out and he wanted her to know he was here for her.

"_No_, Allan. I need you here. We have work to do and plans to make. Will and Djaq can handle it, I am sure." He said, putting an end to any further arguments.

So they had no choice but to obey their leader's command and make the trip together. On the way, both were painfully aware of how full of unspoken sentiments each long stretch of silence was, although neither could have guessed at the similarity of their thoughts. And so both were ill at ease and yet determined to cause the other as little discomfort as possible by trying to keep up a string of meaningless conversation.

"So. What do you think of Robin's plan? About the message?" Will ventured in what he hoped was a casual tone. He had already made up his mind that he would do his best to keep his feelings for her under wraps. He would not put any pressure on her, especially now the she was pregnant, nor would he make her feel responsible for his disappointments. It was not her fault that she couldn't love him. She had tried, and he supposed that was all he could expect of her. She could not force her heart to feel something it did not.

"He seems excited, as usual. I just hope he is not rushing into something without examining all sides. You?" She was determined to keep her voice even and smooth.

She knew that he had loved her once, and that she had only herself to blame for the fact that he no longer cared for her in that way. She had, after all, insisted to him numerous times that she only wanted his friendship, and a man has his pride. But she could not now have him feeling guilty over her inability to so easily close off her own heart. So she would keep up the pretense that she wanted things to return to the way they were between them before their night together.

"Yeah. The same, I guess. But do you think he might be on to something? Prince John's messenger _did_ seem frightened. I think he was more frightened at what the Sheriff and Prince John would do to him than what we might do. So there _might_ be something big going on. I guess we'll have to wait and see." He was starting to relax a little. Maybe he could really do this, he thought. Maybe he could keep his feelings under control.

"Maybe you are right. I just hope Robin is cautious." So far so good. Now, if she could only remember to keep breathing.

They walked for a few moments in silence, but it was not the comfortable silence that they had once been able to enjoy together. So, after several moments, Will began again.

"I...I've noticed that you're still getting sick in the mornings. I'm sorry about that." And he was. He was a very light sleeper and had awakened each time Djaq had been plagued by one of her illnesses. He wanted to be with her and comfort her during those times, but he knew that she would resent his interference. And now that he knew the cause, he wished that he could take the burden off of her. He would gladly take the sickness and the emotional changes and all the rest of it if it would spare her any further unpleasantness.

"Do not be. It will pass. It is a natural part of this condition." She responded in what she hoped was an off-handed way. In reality, she was touched by his concern, although it made her current struggle even harder.

He only nodded.

And they continued the walk to Knighton trying to fill as much of the silence as they could with polite questions and meaningless observations. When they finally neared Marian's home and pulled up their hoods just as Robin had always instructed, they were both reminded of a running joke that the two of them had always shared with Allan, causing them to laugh together for the first time in weeks. The trio had always been comically aware of the fact that covering your head and face with a hood only served to make you stand out in a crowd, not blend in. But they had never been able to deter Robin from insisting that everyone employ the practice on all "secret missions," as he liked to call them.

Upon arrival, Marian came to the door to meet them and Will handed her Robin's note to read while Djaq gave instructions to the cook concerning the proper application of the spice. Will then informed Marian that Robin wished him to escort her back to their camp and she took her leave from him in order to gather some supplies that Robin had requested in his note to her. Djaq, meanwhile, took a few moments to check on Sir Edward to be certain he was alright before meeting Will and Marian downstairs.

When they were all ready to depart, Marian surprised the pair by announcing that she would ride her horse to camp while they walked back. Both found this rather odd, and Will told her that it had been Robin's expressed wish that he escort her. Marian, however, seemed determined and explained that, seeing as she would be returning home after dark, she preferred to be on her horse rather than on foot. Both Will and Djaq could see that there was no point in arguing with her, and they decided that this must either be some Nobility thing or one of her blatant attempts to override Robin's concern for her. Either way, they could hardly force her to walk with them.

So as Marian galloped off ahead of them, the two shrugged at each other and started on the lengthy walk back. By this time, they both felt some of the earlier tension easing as they got back into the swing of spending time together.

"So, do you think Robin's going to take Marian with him to the monastery tomorrow?" Will asked.

"I do not think that she would go. She would not wish to leave her father, I am sure. Besides, if they were spotted together, the consequences would be terrible for her. It is not so long since she left Gisborne at their wedding. She must be even more cautious now than before."

"Yeah. I suppose you're right. But then why did he have her come all the way to the forest at this time of day, knowing she wouldn't get back until dark?" Will wondered, starting to enjoy the easy give and take that he'd been missing with Djaq. He had always found her matter-of-fact wisdom such a stark contrast to the games that most people played with words.

"Maybe he wanted to tell her of his plans. You saw how excited he was at the hint of something big in the works. Maybe he wanted to share it with her. Or maybe he wanted to let her know that he would be leaving on an errand in the morning so that she would not wonder why she didn't see him for a day or two." Djaq offered.

"Yeah, but why have her come to _him_? He usually can't wait to run off and see her whenever there's the smallest thing to tell her. Heck, sometimes he even makes up reasons to go."

Djaq laughed. "You're right. He is so funny about it too. But maybe he really wanted her help with something that could only be done at the camp. Who knows why those two do the things they do."

"I guess you're right." And he laughed too. It felt good to laugh with her again.

She hadn't seemed happy for such a long time now. Of course, now that he understood better _why_ she'd been unhappy, he couldn't really blame her. He only hoped that she would eventually forgive him for ruining her life. She'd maintained from the beginning that she didn't blame him for all that had happened, but how could she not? He certainly blamed himself. Not because he regretted being with her or creating a child together, but because he knew that none of it was what she wanted for herself.

Even now that everything was out in the open, she never talked about the baby. Sure, she talked about "her condition" if someone else brought it up, but she never mentioned the child inside of her. Will wasn't too sure what to make of that fact. Knowing Djaq, there were a lot of possibilities. She could just be keeping her feelings to herself. Or, she could simply not wish to discuss the child in front of _him_. Maybe she resented his involvement. Or it could be any one of a number of other reasons and factors that he was unaware of.

But the bottom line was that it made him feel bad for her. It was clear that she had never wanted this and yet here she was, stuck.

"I am glad that spring is coming. I really hate the cold. It is still a bit chilly in the evenings, but I do not mind that so much. Besides, many more plants will be available in the coming months. That will help me to replenish my supplies of herbs that have been running low." She found herself feeling comfortable enough to chat about the same topics that they had always discussed. Being with him was so easy. Even now. She could almost forget momentarily about all of the heartbreak and uncertainty of the present and future. Almost.

He smiled to hear her recount her hatred of cold weather. She always said it like it was the first time she'd brought it up. He knew how hard she tried never to complain, and he was certain that she didn't realize how often she expressed her loathing of winter.

They carried on this way for the rest of the walk. Both enjoying the other's company and feeling relieved that they could at least be friends. And neither knowing how easily they could find their way to being more than friends if only one or the other would dare to speak up. But neither knew how the other felt. Indeed, both believed their case was hopeless, so neither had the courage to risk destroying the new tentative peace that was blossoming between them. So they walked and they talked and they tried to distract themselves as best they could.

As they neared the camp, they could smell something wonderful and mouthwatering coming from within. Djaq realized suddenly that she had not eaten all day. She had declined Marian's offer of breakfast, assuming she would eat when she arrived back at the camp. But she had been so distracted by her disappointment over the fact that Will was so clearly over her, as well as Robin's big plans, that she had completely forgotten her stomach, which was now rumbling a loud reminder to her.

Her hunger was once again forgotten, however, when she noticed the uneasy looks on the faces of John and Allan, who were standing just in front of the entrance and seemed to be awaiting their return.

"What's wrong?" Will asked, concern evident on his face.

Allan, looking rather anxious, said in a hushed tone, "Look, before you go in there, you should know something."

"Has something happened? Did Marian make it here alright? Is that not her horse?" Djaq was worried by Allan's behavior as well as the way that Little John was having trouble meeting their eyes.

"Yeah yeah. She's here. It's just that...well...they're planning a surprise wedding in there." Allan said awkwardly.

"A wedding?" For a moment, Djaq really did not understand what was going on. Then it dawned on her that the wedding was for her and Will and that their friends were trying to do something nice for the two of them. "Oh, right."

Oh but what horrible timing! How could she stand up with him in front of everyone and pretend to be happy? Or, more specifically, how could she keep the feelings of heartbreak from showing in her eyes and on her face? Surely everyone would notice. As she looked over at Will, she saw how uncomfortable he was with the whole thing.

Of course they knew they would be getting married at some point before the delivery, but she had not been expecting this. She had thought that they would privately take whatever steps were required to make an English marriage legitimate. Nothing more. Clearly Will was looking forward to a public declaration even less than she was. Of course he was. It was nothing more than a contract to him now and the words and gestures would be meaningless.

"John tried to tell 'em that you might not appreciate it and they should leave you to your own plans, but, well, you know how Robin is when he gets something in his head. And Much and Marian have been running around decorating and giggling together. It's weird. They mean well, but me and John kinda had the idea that maybe we could at least spare you the surprise part of it, anyway." He explained apologetically. Allan had seen over the past few days how much of a strain it was for the two of them to have their whole lives laid out for everyone to see and he wished that he could help. He missed his two merry and laughing companions.

Still John remained silent. He just stood there looking as if he wished he could be anywhere else.

"Then this is why Robin wanted Marian to come here? And I thought he said he needed you guys in order to make plans or something." Will was panicking now. He realized with horror that he had forgotten to explain to Robin that Djaq had been adamant about not having a wedding ceremony.

He'd promised her that he would meet her wishes and now he'd failed. He hoped she would not change her mind now. He had been so caught up in making the gang understand what was going on and trying to convince Djaq to stay that he had neglected this one aspect. She would surely be very angry with him. Not to mention uncomfortable. He understood how she must be feeling. She would not appreciate a Christian ceremony, and she would feel awkward about making their private agreement in front of the others.

"This _was_ the plan. That's why he wanted you both out of here for a while and that's why Marian came ahead." John spoke up for the first time. He could see that these two were trying to find their way through all of this mess, and he wished that certain others would just leave them to it.

"So there never was a messenger? It was all a trick?" Djaq wondered.

"But that can't be, I was here and I _saw_ the messenger." Will didn't want Djaq to think that he'd been in on the whole thing. He felt like he owed her some sort of explanation and apology for all of this, but he didn't know where to begin or what to say. He knew that Robin was trying to be helpful, but he was afraid that this surprise wedding might just ruin the friendship he was just starting to rebuild with the mother of his child.

"No no. All of that was real. It was just the stuff about needing you to go to Marian's and needing us here to help with the mission plan." Allan answered. "Now you better get in there and act surprised."

Will looked anxiously at Djaq for confirmation and saw her nod her head slightly, so he reached for the hidden lever and the door swung open. Both stepped inside followed by Allan and John.

They were greeted with shouts of "Surprise!" in three happy voices when they entered. There were candles all over the place and the few flowers they were able to get their hands on, considering spring was not yet in full swing, were hanging about here and there.

"It's a wedding!" Much announced when neither Will nor Djaq did more than look around and smile politely. "There's food and drink and flowers. Oh! And there's cake! We thought you'd never get here!"

"Yes, I _am_ sorry about that. You must think I'm a terrible snob for having you both walk over while I rode. Now you see, though, that the idea was for me to beat you here. Forgive me?" Marian asked Djaq sweetly. She had been so pleased when Robin's note had indicated that he wanted her help in planning Will and Djaq's wedding. She could tell that Djaq had been feeling overwhelmed and she thought that a helpful nudge in the right direction might do the pair a world of good.

Djaq smiled uncomfortably and nodded. "Of course. Thank you all. Everything looks very nice." She was feeling rather crowded and not quite certain how she should react to all that had been done for her. She appreciated the intentions, but was left feeling out of place and a little lost.

"I thought that we should do this before I left for the monastery. I may be gone as long as a week or more and I assumed you wouldn't want to wait." Robin offered.

"That was very considerate of you, but we could have waited until after you had completed your mission." Djaq said.

"Absolutely not! A surprise wedding is just as important as any other operation. And who says we cannot have two missions going at the same time?" He grinned at the two of them.

"You do love your secret plans." Marian said to him with an indulgent smile.

"Do you want to prepare or anything before we begin?" Robin asked.

"I brought a dress that I thought might fit you if you'd like it. It was just a thought, though. You don't have to wear it." Marian attempted nervously.

Djaq shook her head. "No, thank you, Marian. I am fine." As if she were not feeling exposed enough! A dress would make it ten times worse. At least in her own clothes she felt she could handle herself and stay strong.

"Here we go, then." Robin announced and everyone gathered around and became silent. Will and Djaq solemnly kept their eyes facing forward, neither daring to chance a look in each other's direction.

As Robin began to perform the ceremony, Djaq was reminded of the first English wedding she had witnessed. She had been struck by the strangeness of the whole thing. The _couple_ had actually chosen one another, with little or no help from their families. That concept had seemed so ridiculous to her at the time. The idea that those two young people could think that they had any notion of what made a proper marriage was almost laughable.

In her culture, _families_ made such arrangements and numerous factors were taken into account before anything definite was agreed upon. Prospective spouses had little or no contact with one another until all of the finer points had been worked out and the terms made agreeable to all parties. Of course, many families took into account the wishes of their children. No loving father would wish his daughter to be unhappy for the remainder of her life, but wise fathers also knew that a young woman hadn't enough wisdom or foresight to determine who would or would not make a suitable husband.

Love, it was assumed, would come later. A love based on honor and family and faith. Perhaps a couple would never achieve romantic love, but they would have something far stronger and longer lasting. At least that was how Djaq had been raised. But now, here she stood, next to the man she so dearly loved, and all she could think was that she'd give the world if he could only return her feelings. That if only he could find his way back to loving her, everything else would fall into place.

A loveless marriage now seemed like the worst possible fate for both of them. She couldn't help but feel that he must want more for himself. That he must be thinking, even as Robin said the words that would bind them together, of the future happy marriage he might be giving up. Of the blushing English girl he would have met some time in the future and taken as his bride...happily...willingly...by choice. Not this farce based on obligation and necessity.

Will, for his part, tried hard to concentrate on the words that were being said and to ignore the faces of the people around him. Although they were some of the most important people in his life and he had always pictured them as being a part of their special day anytime he'd dreamed about marrying Djaq, their smiles now only served to underscore the bleakness of what was happening. This was not a happy occasion, and their generous, if rather misguided, attempts to _make_ it so fell far short of their goal.

But most of all, he did his best to block out the unhappiness he saw so boldly written all over the beautiful face of the woman at his side. He had sealed her fate during that one encounter they'd had and he knew now that this was so far removed from anything she'd wanted for her life that she was unlikely ever to be completely happy again. He told himself that he'd never intended to hurt her and that he would try everyday of his life to make it up to her and help her be as comfortable as possible with their new life together. But that didn't erase the guilt he felt.

He had always harbored the secret fantasy that one day he'd marry her. Of course, he knew it was far-fetched and he never really believed it would happen, but it had been something warm and sweet and comfortable that he'd allowed himself to think about from time to time. This ceremony was none of those things. It had been forced upon them by circumstances, if not beyond their control, then certainly unconsidered. Their marriage would not be something that would bring either of them joy or satisfaction.

He would never hold her in his arms or snuggle up against her while they slept. She would never tell him she loved him or greet him with a kiss in the mornings. Most painful of all was probably the fact that the one night he'd had with her would be the only such encounter of his entire life. He had never been with anyone before that night and now he would never have the opportunity. He knew that it was selfish to think of the loss of such things at a time like this, but it hurt.

Allan had spent a good deal of time over the past year or so trying to get Will to bed down with any and every young woman within reach, it seemed. Allan had said more than once how strange it was that Will just didn't seem interested in such pastimes. But Will _had_ been interested. What red-blooded Englishman wouldn't be? But he had always felt that such behavior would be wrong. It made him feel like he was being unfaithful to Djaq and the special love he felt for her. Even though she wasn't his and probably never would be, it had always seemed like a betrayal. Besides, no other woman could ever have compared with her anyway.

And he knew that, whether she cared for such details or not, she would always have his fidelity from this moment forward. First, because he was a man of his word and he would honor his vows. But also because she deserved it. She would be his wife and the mother of his child and he would never do anything to tarnish that. He would always love her, he was sure, and he would spend the rest of his life mourning the loss of her warm heart and body.

His attention was drawn back to the ceremony as he heard the words Robin was directing at Djaq.

"Do you, Djaq...erm...what is your surname? And shouldn't I refer to you Saffiya?" She glared at him for an answer. "Right. Sorry. Ahem. Do you, Djaq, take this man as your husband? Do you promise to love, honor and obey him as long as you both shall live?"

"I do." _I promise to always love you, Will Scarlett._

"And do you, Will Scarlett, take this woman to be your wife? Do you promise to love, protect and honor her as long as you both shall live?"

"I do" _I will never let you down._

"I, as the rightful Lord of Locksley, in the county of Nottingham, now pronounce you man and wife."

_Here it comes, _thought Djaq. _Maybe when he kisses me he'll remember. Maybe I can put enough love into this one kiss that he'll remember how much he loved me once. He'll feel how much I love him. Maybe._

"You may kiss the bride."

And she closed her eyes nervously and waited. At last, after what felt like minutes, she felt him lean in close to her. She could feel the warmth of his breath and she readied herself to pour every ounce of her heart into him. Then she felt his lips quickly brush against her forehead before he stepped back away from her awkwardly. Her heart sank as she released the breath she did not know she'd been holding. But she buried her feelings the way she had always trained herself to do and she turned to accept the glad smiles and heartfelt congratulations of those she held most dear.

After everyone had had their fill of food, drink and chatter, they collectively, as if by some prior agreement, made their way out the entrance in order to give the newlyweds a few moments to work out their sleeping arrangements. They both just stood there looking at the floor.

Djaq briefly considered the customary wedding night activities. She knew that Will would probably have no objections to her sharing his bed. He was, after all, a man, and love was not requisite to sex. He was her husband now and he cared for her in his own way and would be respectful and kind, she knew.

But, although she knew that, had she been in her own land, she would have spent her wedding night in bed with a man whom she had yet to fall in love with and who did not yet love her, she could not bring herself to allow that kind of intimacy with Will. Not after the way he'd made love to her. Not after the way he'd been so tender and passionate at the same time, succeeding in making her feel like she was the only woman in the world. Not after the way her body had responded to his touch and the way he'd looked at her.

She would never be able to stand looking up into his eyes and seeing only lust or fond regard. It would feel like a knife going through her heart. So she smiled at him weakly and crossed the small space to her own bed.

"Good night, Will. Sleep well." She said in as steady a voice as she could manage before climbing into her bunk and pulling the curtain closed. And she allowed herself, for the first time since the one night she'd spent with him, to remember the feel of his work-roughened hands and warm lips all over her body. Although these memories brought her no satisfaction, it was, at least, something to cling to. So she curled up on her side and imagined she was falling asleep in the warmth and safety of his arms.

"Good night, Djaq." _I love you._

And he made his way to his own bed. As he lay there with his back to the camp, dreading the reactions of the others upon their reentry, he tried to call to mind the fantasy that he'd fallen asleep to numerous times over the past several weeks. He'd grown used to comforting himself by pretending that Djaq was sleeping in his arms. That he could kiss her and caress her whenever he wished. That she was all his and that she loved him completely. But tonight he found no comfort in such blatant falsehoods. So he drifted off to sleep on his wedding night with his dreams as empty as the space beside him in his cold and lonely bed.


	7. Distractions

_**A/N: Okay. Here's the thing. This chapter contains some questionable material. Yes, that's right, naughty stuff. So if you are offended by such content, you have my permission to stop right here. I won't be mad, I promise. You can rejoin me on the next chapter if you wish. But for the rest of you, here we go...**_

**Distractions (M-Rated)**

Contrary to popular belief, Will Scarlett was _not_ shy around women. That was something that his fellow outlaws had unanimously decided about him at some point and he had simply never bothered to correct them. It was easier to let them think that than trying to explain to them why he'd never shown the slightest inclination towards telling Djaq how he felt about her.

But there was a time, in fact, when he was seen as quite the future ladies' man. He had been young, of course, but he hadn't been timid. He had spent time with a lot of pretty girls in the village and he'd never had any trouble saying what was on his mind. And, quite frankly, he could probably have had his pick of them.

That had been before the death of his mother, though. Back before his whole world had tipped upside down. Before he'd really understood the true extent of the poverty facing the Scarletts and others like them. His parents had always tried hard to shield Will and his brother from the unpleasant aspects of life for as long as they could. They'd wanted their boys to grow up with a sense of hope and purpose, not beaten down in defeat before they'd even had a chance to become men.

So Will had enjoyed the lighter side of life back then. He had actually started to develop something of a reputation with the young ladies. Nothing unseemly, of course. He hadn't crossed any lines or broken any rules or anything. In fact, he was always a perfect gentleman. He'd teased and held hands and shared pecks on the cheek with any number of village maidens. It was all perfectly innocent.

But still, after a time, fathers began to watch their daughters a bit more closely when he was around. And with good reason. He was handsome and kind and chivalrous. The girls just seemed to flock to him. He really didn't even have to put forth much effort. After all, girls were just like anyone else as far as he was concerned and he'd never felt the need to treat them any differently. He'd just enjoyed their company and they'd seemed to feel the same. He wasn't after anything from them and he was certainly not deceptive or manipulative, they were just having fun.

It got to a point, though, where Will's father, at his mother's urging, had decided it was time for a man to man talk. Rather reluctantly, his father had explained to him that it was very important to be respectful of the opposite sex and that there were certain intimate goings on between men and women that should never be considered until after marriage. Will, of course, had been highly embarrassed by the discussion and hadn't had the heart to tell his father that he was well aware of what went on between married couples. He was, after all, fourteen years old. Almost a _man_.

So he'd let his father know that he had no intention of disrespecting anyone and he was not interested in marriage. That was something he would consider in a few years. He never gave love much of a thought. He grew up in a loving household and just assumed that married people always loved each other. He'd figured that, when the time came, he would just pick a wife, someone with whom he was compatible, and the love part of it would come naturally. He had no delusions about wealth, but he _was_ the son of Locksley's carpenter and was progressing nicely in his father's trade. And he came from a nice family and was well liked by everyone. He didn't expect to have trouble finding a wife from among the peasantry whenever he felt that the time was right.

But by the next winter, his mother was dead and his childhood was over. He was angry and driven and he poured all of his energy and focus into righting wrongs. Girls and any thoughts of a future with them were simply left by the wayside. He had no time in his life for anything accept his burning hatred for the new Sheriff and his determination to see to it that no other families suffered the same loss that he had. Even after Robin had saved them from hanging and they had all become outlaws, his priorities had remained basically the same. Feed the poor, stop the Sheriff. Nothing else mattered.

And then came the day that a little dark haired, dark eyed renegade had declared herself a part of their gang. She'd made his head spin and he really couldn't tell anymore whether he was coming or going. It was embarrassing to think about now, but when she had first joined them, he had sort of thought of her as his very own_ Marian_.

He had always been rather in awe of Lady Marian, even before joining Robin and learning the extent of what she did for the poor. He'd always known her to be brave and kind and beautiful. He had thought Robin must be the luckiest man in the world to have the affections of such a woman. So when Djaq had appeared, all feisty and clever, he immediately saw the similarities. Both women, both fighters, both determined and proud. Of course, as much as he still liked and respected Marian, he knew now that _she_ was no _Djaq_.

It was probably natural that he had developed a crush on her. She was incredible and, besides, he had accidentally seen her half undressed. Although he hadn't exactly seen much, that would be enough to leave an impression on any man. He recognized now, though, that a crush was all it had been. A boyish infatuation. He hadn't even known her when the feelings had begun. Sure he had admired her and liked her, but he knew nothing of love. He'd fantasized that he would one day sweep her off her feet in a breathtaking kiss, or save her from the Sheriff or some evil and love-struck Saracen come to drag her back to the Holy Land. And she would be so grateful and impressed that she would pledge her undying love to him.

Although, in reality, he had just figured that things would continue as normal, with her none the wiser about his feelings. He hadn't really worried about the complications that could arise from them living and working and fighting so closely while he harbored such feelings. He had had crushes before and he knew they never lasted long. So he felt sure that this would be no different.

But as he got to know her, he'd discovered that there was so much about her to love. _Truly_ love. He found that she had hidden reserves of strength that he didn't think could be found in ten men. That she was incredibly smart and educated, but that, because of this, she was also rather arrogant and stubborn. But adorably so. He didn't even think she realized that she could be a bit of a snob at times. And no one dared to tell her.

She was also extremely caring. She not only set their broken bones and stitched up their wounds, she tried to soothe their sorrows and disappointments as well. She was a good friend and a true comrade. She was funny and strong and she never shied away from a challenge. Best of all, she always said just what she meant. No games or artfulness. He had, by that time, seen enough of Robin's relationship with Marian to know the rarity of such a quality.

He'd also started to notice the unusual aspects of her personality as well. Like the way she picked at her food. It wasn't that she didn't eat it, it was just that she had a system. She ate all of the roots or vegetables first, then her bread, then her meat, unless it was pork and then she passed it off to someone else, and finally her broth. He had no idea why she ate that way, and he was dying to ask her about it, but he never did. He wasn't even sure if she knew that she did it. But Will thought that it was the cutest thing he'd ever seen.

And she had this odd thing she did whenever they walked through the forest. She scanned the ground for the driest curled up dead leaves and then she'd make sure to step on each and every one of them. She seemed to like the crunching sound they made under her boots. Who knew why? It was like a game to her. She couldn't do it, of course, if they were on a mission or something where they had to be stealthy. But whenever they were just on their way to or from making deliveries or out looking for herbs or something, she almost always did it. It was funny and he loved to watch her.

Those little things were so at odds with the rational woman who commanded the attention and obedience of men twice her size in a medical crisis, or kept her head about her and always managed to be the voice of reason when one of Robin's ideas or Much's worries or Allan's schemes threatened to get out of hand. She was absolutely amazing and intriguing and, before he knew what had hit him, he was completely and hopelessly in love with her.

There were just so many little things he wanted to learn about her. But, for some reason, Will never felt like he had the right to ask. He just didn't feel worthy. She was so far beyond his reach because of her intelligence and education, her experiences and family background, that he was left feeling foolish and inadequate. For the first time in his life he felt unequal and completely out of his element with a woman. So he'd made sure to keep himself at a respectable distance from her.

He had never allowed himself to be as familiar with her as the others had been. He'd watched over and over again as Allan would pick her up and swing her around playfully or put an arm around her neck conspiratorially. Robin often patted her on the back when he was pleased with one of her many good ideas or grabbed her by the shoulders when he was excited about something.

And she and Much always seemed to have a comfortable relationship with one another. Will noticed that she would hug Much when there was a reason to celebrate or when he seemed to need a bit of cheering, and Much, for his part, never hesitated in reaching out a hand to help her up or brush snowflakes out of her hair in winter. Even John, who was not exactly the warm and fuzzy sort, would sometimes reach out and pat her arm or hand in comfort if she seemed a bit down for whatever reason.

But Will had never felt that he had the right to take such liberties with her once he'd realized the extent of his feelings. Many a night found him sitting across the fire from her and mentally wiping away a smudge of dirt from her cheek or sweeping a wisp of short hair behind her ear. She was untouchable as far as he was concerned. He'd look at her and smile at her and laugh with her, but that was as far as it had ever gone. Until _that_ night.

Making love with Djaq was something that he had fantasized about more times than he could count, although he'd known that the chances of it ever happening were slim to none. He had never bothered to wonder whether or not he'd know what to do when and if the time came. He knew the basics, of course. He'd learned quite a bit from overhearing the bragging of older boys in the village while growing up, and you don't have a best mate like Allan A' Dale without hearing far more than you ever wanted to know about sex.

But he had still been rather ignorant of the finer points of pleasing a woman. Still, somehow, everything had simply fallen into place that night with Djaq. He wasn't even very nervous. He was much more concerned with her comfort and making sure that she knew she was loved and safe than he was with his own pleasure or with impressing her with his ability.

He had taken his time at first because he'd wanted to show her how much he loved her. After they had undressed, he had caressed and kissed her beautiful body all over until she'd indicated, by the way she pushed herself against him, that she wanted to do more. Then he had slowly and gently eased himself into her. She had actually helped with that part by reaching between them and firmly grasping him in her hand in order to guide him to the right spot. It had never occurred to him that there could be a _wrong_ spot, and he was surprised and thrilled by her action.

It was the only time that she took the initiative that night aside from the first few kisses, which she'd started. But that was alright with him. She didn't seem nervous, just sweet and loving and happy to let him take the lead. He had never really imagined her as the type of lover who would so utterly surrender herself to a man. He'd always rather thought that she would be aggressive and even dominant. But the way in which she gave herself over to him and trusted him with her heart and body so completely had touched him deeper than he would ever be able to express.

It had made him even more determined to be tender and gentle and avoid causing her any more pain than was strictly necessary. He would actually have forced himself to stop altogether, as difficult as it would have been, once he saw the way she winced as he tried to enter her. But she'd held him close and wrapped her legs around his waist, essentially trapping him. And as soon as she was ready to try again, she would smile and nod slightly for him to continue while she kissed him deeply and with a passion that made his heart nearly burst with love for her.

When he had finally entered her fully, they'd slowly rocked together until they found a movement that felt right to both of them. It was all so beautiful and perfect and better than anything he'd ever imagined. It wasn't just the way his own body felt, although that _was_ incredible, it was the way he felt when he saw the pleasure that he gave her. The way her eyes fluttered closed and she leaned her head back and whispered his name between a string of poetic sounding syllables he assumed were Arabic words. And the way she'd gently stroked his back and face and planted light kisses on every part of him she could reach.

He was absolutely overcome with reverence for her. He knew that he was unworthy of her and yet here she was, looking up at him as if she had been starved for him all of her life, as if he were the only man on earth. She was his beautiful goddess and he felt such a sense of privilege at being given this opportunity to worship her and show her how truly special she was to him.

He'd allowed himself to be guided by her movements and sounds to be sure that she was enjoying herself and was satisfied. As for his own moment of satisfaction, well, all he knew was that no fantasy had ever come near to matching the reality of being that close to the woman he loved. It was mind-boggling.

When they were both fully satisfied and had come back down to earth, they had lain side by side in each other's arms and talked quietly until they fell asleep. They talked about all sorts of things. Childhood memories, fears, regrets, funny things about the gang. They never mentioned the future, but, as far as Will had been concerned, there could not be a single day for the rest of his life that would not revolve around Djaq.

Now, though, Will sat on a stump not very far from the camp and tried hard to pull himself back from such thoughts. He had to keep his mind focused on the scene he was attempting to carve on the plank of wood he held balanced between his knees. It had to be perfect. It was the most important thing he'd ever made and was also turning out to be the most challenging. He'd spent a week choosing the perfect wood and was still not entirely satisfied, but he'd finally come to the conclusion that he would never be able to find anything flawless enough to be worthy of its purpose.

He found that he was enjoying his work more than he had in a very long time. It allowed him to escape from some of his deeper and darker thoughts to a happier time, he hoped, in the future. While he measured and marked, sawed and smoothed, whittled and carved, he thought about his son or daughter. He wondered which it would be. He honestly had no preference and knew without a doubt that he would love and cherish a boy or a girl equally.

He wondered what the child would look like. Would it resemble him or Djaq or would it be some divine blend of both of them? Serving as a beautiful reminder that, even for one night, they had loved each other completely. And then anytime that he got lonesome or or his heart became too heavy he could reach down and pick up his child and say _Ah yes. Here it is...irrefutable proof. I did not dream it, it really happened._ _And here is the perfect result. A little piece of heaven on earth._

He thought of all of the wonderful things he would teach him or her. Like which trees were best for shade and which were more suitable to chopping into firewood. How to tell if water is safe to drink or has been stagnant too long. How to fasten your shoes so that they stay on properly. Will had had quite a bit of difficulty with that last one when he was a small boy. He remembered how his father had been so patient with him and had never seemed to grow tired of showing him how it was done.

He missed his father terribly. He always did, but he especially missed his wisdom and understanding right now. He needed guidance and he really had nowhere to turn. He could not go to Robin, that would be inappropriate. Robin belonged equally to both him and Djaq, and to involve him in their private matters any more than they had already done would be wrong.

He supposed, if his troubles had involved any other woman, he might take a stab at asking Allan for advice. Although, given Allan's experience with the opposite sex, he might end up more confused than he already was. But Allan and Djaq were very close, probably as close as him and Will, and again, it did not seem right. Much would be completely useless, and that only left John.

In some ways, John seemed like the ideal person to turn to. After all, he was the only one of the outlaws to have ever been married. But then, he had also lost his own family and might resent the reminder that his wife and child had replaced him in their lives. Besides, Will felt pretty certain that John would not appreciate being put in the middle of his and Djaq's personal problems. John was not the type of man to talk about troubles...his or anyone else's. So Will was left to try and sort out what he was thinking and feeling all on his own.

What it boiled down to was that he just didn't know quite how to behave with Djaq now. She seemed perfectly willing to be his friend. To carry on as they always had before, making deliveries together, collecting herbs or gathering wood, sitting and laughing together at meal time, or just being together. It was what she'd said she wanted and he had thought that he could give that to her. But it was turning out that he was very wrong. Being near her, even when there were other people around, was absolute agony for him. He felt like he had to constantly remind himself to keep a certain amount of distance between them...even more than he always had.

He didn't even feel like he could_ look_ at her freely now. He missed her and he wanted her and he loved her. But he was trying so hard to show her the side of him she wanted to see that he was afraid his eyes would reveal too much. He was afraid that every glance would bare his soul to her and he wanted her to be comfortable with their arrangement and had no desire to burden her with his longing stares and puppy-dog eyes. She needed to know that she could count on him to be what she wanted and nothing more.

But he wanted _so_ _badly_ to be more! He wanted to kiss her and touch her. To whisper that he loved her. And he was finding it incredibly difficult to hide what he felt. So he avoided her. He forced himself to look away from her more frequently and pretended to be interested in something off in the distance whenever they spoke. Mostly, though, he used any moment that he wasn't needed by Robin or around camp in order to slip away to this private spot and work on his project. It brought him the littlest bit of peace.

Robin had been away for a little over a week now and he was expected back any day. He had gone to visit a friend at a monastery a few days' journey from Nottingham in order to try to have Prince John's message decoded. Will was certain that, as soon as he returned, there would be a lot of planning and running around going on. And he was glad of it.

He was usually a little leery of some of Robin's bigger and riskier plans, but this time he was looking forward to the distraction. He needed time to get a handle on his feelings and try to find a comfortable way in which he and his bride could coexist and prepare for the birth of their child without causing each other any added discomfort.

Besides, Much had been completely intolerable since Robin had departed and they were all anxiously awaiting an end to his incessant whining and worrying. Djaq had finally taken pity on all of them and lured Much away from camp for a while. She was usually pretty good at calming him whenever he became too fretful. Will just hoped that Robin got back before one of them was forced to gag Much in order to preserve their sanity.

In another part of the forest, Djaq and Much were out collecting herbs, and she was finding that the activity was doing little to distract Much from his restlessness over Robin's absence. He was hurt at not having been invited along on the journey and was certain that Robin would need him at some point. So he complained even louder and more frequently than usual, which drove the rest of the outlaws to invent things to do in the forest and villages just so they could spend the bulk of their time away from him.

But spending so much time alone in the camp only succeeded in making him more irritable and vocal when they returned. So, Djaq, feeling rather sorry for the state he'd worked himself into, decided to ask him if he would mind assisting her in locating some herbs in the forest.

"So why are we doing this _now_, again? I mean, they wouldn't be so hard to find if you'd only wait a few more weeks. At this rate, we'll have scoured the entire forest and end up coming back with nothing but these few measly buds." Much complained after an hour or so, although he was rather enjoying himself with Djaq. He was flattered that she'd needed his expertise, as she'd explained when she'd asked him along, and he was relieved to have some company for a change.

It seemed that everyone had been terribly busy and had all gone off in their own directions quite a bit ever since Robin had been away, which made sense to him when he thought about it. All of the extra activity probably helped them to keep their minds off of worrying about their leader, he figured. They were all, he was certain, very concerned over whether Robin was eating properly and was keeping safe and not taking any unnecessary risks.

They probably couldn't stand being at the camp for long periods of time because every time they caught sight of his bunk, they must surely wonder whether or not he'd taken enough blankets to protect him from the chilly night air. Those were the kinds of things people thought about when someone they cared about was away. So Much could certainly understand how some distraction might help them. And _he_ was actually having a better time than he'd had in days, and was only really complaining out of habit.

"As I already explained to you more than once, Much, some of these plants are more useful to me at this stage of growth. If we wait until they have flowered, they will not be nearly as potent for medicinal purposes. But you do not have to help if you do not wish to. I will try my best to get by without you if you would like to return to the camp." She was beginning to seriously regret taking pity on him this afternoon. He did not mean to be so annoying, she knew. He missed Robin and he didn't quite know how to deal with it.

"No no. I'll help." He sighed and got back down on his hands and knees to continue running his palms over the ground as she had shown him. "So, do you think Robin has turned up anything? It's been days now. Shouldn't we have heard something?"

"What would we have heard, Much? He went there for the sole purpose of getting information. When he gets it, he'll return and tell us all about it. There's no reason to worry," Djaq really did want to ease his mind at least a little. The poor man was far too high-strung for his own good.

"And you _know_ that whatever he uncovers won't be good news. It's not like Prince John was writing to the Sheriff just to say '_it's nice in London...wish you were here,_'is it? Come to think of it, that _would_ be good news! _ I_ wish the Sheriff were in London too." He sighed. "But, more than likely, it's some new torment that they're planning on visiting on the people of Nottingham. And that is sure to mean big trouble for _us_."

"For _us_? Why us?"

"Well you _know_ that Robin will insist on coming to the rescue." He replied exasperatedly.

"Of course. That's what we do, is it not? We help people." She answered gently. She did not know why she was even answering his arguments. She knew that, for the most part, he just liked to hear himself talk, but she always seemed to fall into the role of soother with him whenever he fretted about something.

"Yes, but we are woefully out of practice at facing the Sheriff's guards. There hasn't been much to do all winter and I'm sure our skills are somewhat rusty. We could be seriously injured."

"Speak for yourself. I practice regularly in order to be certain that my skills are _never_ rusty. You never know when we will face danger, so it is best to be prepared. I have offered to spar with you more than once. Perhaps you should have taken me up on my offer rather than spending all winter complaining." She chastised.

"I do _not_ complain! I may, occasionally, voice an unpopular opinion about some of the more unpleasant aspects of our lives, but I do not consider that _complaining_."

"Well, whatever you call it, you should have been practicing rather than doing it. Would you like to spar with me now? I think that we have found enough plants for today." She offered.

"Spar? With you? How?"

"What do you mean 'how'? You have your sword and I have mine. If you are unsure as to _how_, then you most certainly _are_ out of practice." She teased.

"I mean, is that a good idea? In your condition?" He asked worriedly.

"I don't know, Much. Are you planning on running your sword through my belly?" She asked in mock seriousness.

"What? _No!_ Of course not!" He responded in genuine seriousness.

"Then I think we will be fine."

And so the two of them had sparred until it was time to return to camp to make supper. Much really _had_ been out of practice and the exercise had actually helped to get his mind off of fretting over Robin for a while. So it was time well spent as far as Djaq was concerned. Besides, she had enjoyed it. She really did like to keep her skills sharp and Much was always a decent opponent. And she had actually been in need of some distraction herself. She missed Will's company and it was starting to take its toll on her.

They had spent very little time together since the day that they got married. He seemed to have had quite a bit to do off on his own lately, and _she_ had been to check on Sir Edward a few times over the past week. So they had ended up just missing each other several times, it seemed. Plus, they had all had deliveries to make and regular chores like sharpening blades and such.

So they never seemed to be alone together. And even when they were in the same place at the same time, in the company of others, she often had the hardest time getting his attention. She wasn't sure if it was deliberate on Will's part or not. It didn't seem like the sort of thing he would do...avoiding her, that is. He just never seemed to be around. But, then again, he was probably finding their new relationship as tough to deal with as she was.

She had actually tried more than once to spend some time with him, but Will always seemed to have paired up with someone else for deliveries before she had the chance to volunteer, or he would be gone, off on some errand of his own, before she could get a word out. She still held out the tiniest measure of hope, though, that she could make up for the way that she had pushed him away from her, and that, maybe, they could find a way to rebuild what they'd started on. Or, at least, start something new together.

Even when she had insisted to him that their relationship be platonic, she had always expected to have his friendship. But now he seemed so distant. She guessed that he must need time to adjust, and that things would at least get back to normal at some point. Although, if she were honest with herself, their same old friendship was not what she craved.

Once she had allowed herself to hope for a loving partnership with him, she had been unable to turn those feelings off again. Even after seeing his disinterest in her and realizing that his feelings for her had changed, she found that she had opened a door that simply refused to be closed again. What was more, her whole body was starting to send her signals that she felt she could no longer ignore. She wanted him. All of him.

She had never before in her life felt as safe and loved as she had with him during their night of lovemaking. She was the type of person who always had to maintain control. She had learned enough of the cruelty of life and the indifference of men and gods to know that you had no one to rely on in this world except for yourself. Other people might love and care for you, but, in the blink of an eye, they could be gone. And, at the end of the day, you were on your own. Just as it should be. Just as she had preferred it for so long.

But Will had done things and said things to her that made her feel..._What?_ She couldn't even describe it. She didn't think there was a word in any language to convey what she'd felt. _Connected? _Maybe. She had definitely felt that with him. But that wasn't all. There was so much more. He had climbed into her very soul and made himself a part of her. Even before the sex. That was _why_ she'd felt so at peace over giving herself to him. And _give_ herself she _did_. Completely. Not just her virginity. Not only her body. But _everything_.

On that night, she found out, for the first time, what it was to relinquish all control. To trust another person so much that they _own_ every part of you. And it was unbelievable. She'd put herself completely in his hands and he didn't let her down. It was exhilarating. It was as if, by letting go of the strict control she kept over herself and her emotions, she had freed herself to feel things and experience everything for the first time. And she had not regretted it. Not until the next morning, that is.

Now she wished with all of her might that she could feel his love again. She wanted to trust him with her inner most thoughts and emotions. She desperately wanted to learn to lean on him. But she knew that she had realized it all too late. She was starting to understand that he had given up on her and, while she couldn't exactly fault him for it, it did make her wonder if she had been mistaken about what he'd felt. For how could something so intense and profound simply vanish, without a trace, on command? When her own feelings for _him_ refused to obey her in the slightest.

But when she and Much had sparred, she was able to put those things out of her mind for a bit. And as they walked back to camp, she hoped that the exercise had exhausted her mind and body enough to allow her a peaceful sleep without bad dreams for a change.

"Robin!" Much exclaimed as they stepped through the entrance to find their leader awaiting their return. "You're back!"

"So it seems." He replied.

"Well? What did you find out?" Much asked eagerly, earning him nothing more than Robin's raised eyebrow and a grin in response.

So Djaq prepared herself to play Robin's game of '_I'm going to make you guess and work for every bit bit of information I have even though I'm dying to tell you!_' as she wondered where Will had gotten off to again.

_**A/N: I know what you're thinking. "Is this woman crazy? Does she think we're stupid? That sex scene was the same one she described in earlier chapters! How misleading!" Yes, I know. You probably thought that there would be new naughties going on. Well, sorry to disappoint, but Will and Djaq are not quite there yet in their relationship. But comfort yourselves with this: the night they **did** share was so magical that they both keep drawing on it for strength and comfort during the tough times. So, you just have to have faith that they'll find their way back to each other and then the naughty times will roll...or whatever it is that naughty times do. =**_** )**


	8. A Mysterious Visitor?

**_Author's Note: _**_First of all, thank you so much to my three faithful reviewers_ soulprovider, Vulpes Lapis, and noz4a2. _Your comments and encouragement keep me going. _

**A Mysterious Visitor?**

"So, what does it mean, Master?" Much asked once they were all assembled and had listened to Robin recount the details of his trip and the contents of the message that had been decoded. "Who is this 'son' and who is he the son _of_? And why is he coming _here_? And why is the Sheriff paying him? And what has any of this to do with us?"

When Much finally paused for a breath, Robin opened his mouth to speak. "I do not know, Much. But you can be certain that I will find out. I already stopped by Knighton before I came here and I asked Marian if the Nobles are preparing for an important visitor to the castle. Surely, if this is some high ranking person, there will be feasts and such."

"And did she have any information?" Djaq inquired.

"No. She hadn't heard anything. But Prince John would not send someone here in order to have the Sheriff pay them if there were not some sinister reason behind it. The 'son' that the message refers to must be someone of great importance. There _must_ be more that we can do." Robin sighed.

Djaq did not like where Robin's mood seemed to be heading. He could get very dark when he was discouraged, and then he got dangerous. His plans became riskier and he rarely listened to reason. "Give her time. She may yet be able to uncover something." She tried.

"That's what I'm afraid of. I don't want her getting too close to the Sheriff or Gisbourne. She barely escaped from that man once before. I'd much rather we do this on our own." Robin answered.

"I'm usually on good terms with the female staff at the castle. I can check in there tomorrow. There is this one pretty little kitchen maid that I've been meaning to talk to. Maybe she knows something about a feast or whatever." Allan offered. He hadn't really been terribly interested in Robin's plan so far, but now he found himself a bit more eager to help. Any excuse to get to know the kitchen girls.

"Yes, Allan. Do that." Robin replied.

"Actually, while I'm there, I think I'll drop a word or two to a couple of chambermaids I've had dealings with in the past, get 'em to keep an eye open for anything new or interesting. They're usually privy to the best information." Allan was starting to think that this might be some fun after all.

And, with at least some semblance of a plan, they all went back to their respective routines.

A few days later, he and Djaq were making their deliveries to Nettlestone together when Allan finally worked up the nerve to say what had been on his mind for weeks.

"You coulda come to me, you know." He offered.

Djaq had been expecting this. She'd noticed that Allan had done little more than make small talk with her since he'd found out about her condition. "I know." There was no point in pretending that she didn't know what he was referring to. They had always been close friends and she knew that he must be hurt.

"I might've been able to help. I'm not completely useless, you know."

"I know that, Allan. But I could not tell _anyone_. Not even you. Not even Will." She wondered if he was hurt most by the fact that she had not confided in him, or by the fact that she and Will had shared something that he could not be a part of. Not that he would be jealous, exactly. Just that he might be feeling left out.

"Why not?"

"I was afraid. I was stupid and afraid. I thought that everyone would see me differently." She paused and thought about how far she wanted to take this conversation. "_Do_ you? See me differently?" She asked.

Allan had to think carefully. He wanted to be honest with her. Partly because she could tell when he lied, and partly because he always felt like horse dung whenever he lied to her or told her half truths.

"Is it such a difficult question?" She asked with a small smile. She didn't want to put him on the spot. She just wondered where they stood. She wanted her life to go back to normal as much as possible, and her friendship with Allan was a big part of her life.

"No. I mean yes. I mean, well, sort of."

"Sort of what? It is _sort of_ a difficult question or you _sort of_ see me differently?" She wasn't sure she really wanted to know.

"Well, both, I guess." Dammit. Why didn't he just lie?

"Oh?"

"Well it's a difficult question because I don't really know how to answer it. I mean, I can't really _help_ but see you differently now. Can I? You're going to be a _mother_."

She cringed slightly at the word. "So does it change things? With us?" She asked.

"_No!_ No way! Course not. We're friends and we'll always be friends. Best friends. It's just that I never really let myself see you that way before."

"What way?"

"You know." He responded sheepishly.

"No, I do not. Tell me."

"As someone who cared about that kinda stuff. Men and babies and stuff like that. It's just a new side to you. That's all. I have to get used to it. But you still could have come to me, Djaq. Even before you knew you were, you know, pregnant. Back when everything happened between you and Will. You could have told me. I get why _Will_ didn't tell me. His sense of honor or whatever. But why didn't _you_? You could have trusted me. I always talk to you about that kind of stuff." And he did. Probably way too much.

At least that's what Will always told him...that it wasn't right to say that kind of stuff in front of Djaq because she was a lady. But Djaq said she'd heard it all before. She never even blushed. Course, she never seemed particularly interested in hearing it either, but he didn't think that it offended her. Maybe he was wrong.

"It was private." She saw the look of hurt pass over his face. "I'm sorry, Allan, but it was. It was something between Will and myself and it would not have been right to discuss it. Besides, I just wanted to forget all about it."

"Will was that terrible, huh? Yeah, I always kinda figured he'd be pretty clueless when the time came. I've been trying to get him some practice since I met him, but he would never bite. _Ow! _What the hell was that for?" He asked after she socked him in the arm. Hard. _Really_ hard.

"It is none of your business what went on between us! But, just for the record, Will was _not_ terrible. _At all_."

"Oh, so now you wanna talk about it, huh? Well I'm sorry but it offends my delicate sensibilities!" He teased.

And they both had the good sense to drop the conversation. But they carried on together, laughing and playing as usual. Djaq, though, had been struck by something that Allan had said. Was he actually saying that Will had never been with a woman before? Or was he just saying that there hadn't been many? Or was he just being _Allan_?

She had, before the night they spent together, wondered from time to time about it. She had always told herself that she was just curious. Will did spend an awful lot of time with Allan. Not that that was proof of anything, just that Allan seemed to spend his free time one of three ways. Drinking, gambling, or with women. Sometimes all at the same time, according to Allan. So, she had figured that Will probably did some of the same.

She had always felt a little stung whenever he and Allan spent an evening in the tavern. She never acknowledged the reasons behind her feelings, of course. She just told herself that she didn't want Will getting mixed up in anything with Allan. But there _had_ been pangs of jealousy and sadness, she now saw.

She'd never really thought of him as having a _lot _of experience, though. He _was_ young, after all. But she had assumed that there had been women before her. Besides, that night he was so confident. Not arrogantly so, just sure of himself. Not nervous in the least. At least that was how it seemed to her.

He seemed to know exactly what he was doing and just what to do to make her feel incredible. But if what she garnered from her conversation with Allan was true, then she was suddenly struck by two thoughts. First, that he was incredibly gifted when it came to pleasing a woman. At least when it came to pleasing _her_. That thought filled her with a sense of longing she figured was better left unexplored for the moment.

Secondly, she realized that their night together must have been far more special to him than she'd imagined. And that her rejection the next morning must have cut him more deeply than she could have guessed. Although, maybe men did not regard their first lover as any big deal. She really wasn't sure. Unfortunately, most of what she knew about sex, beyond the most basic technical aspects, she had heard on the battle fields while disguised as a boy.

Those soldiers were pigs, and they delighted in shocking the young virgin "boy" with their stories of conquests. She had blushed furiously at first, but had quickly trained herself not to react to their words. After a while, it hardly fazed her at all. Of course, she had thought that most of what they described was disgusting. She didn't even believe that most of it was physically _possible_, let alone that anyone would actually _want_ to do it.

But she had gotten so carried away with Will in the cave that she had forgotten to be afraid. And, as it turned out, there had been nothing to fear. He was gentle and loving and it was not at all the way that those vulgar men had described it. And now, to find out that it had been a first for him, just as it was for her, made her feel so much closer to him.

But she put those thoughts out of her mind for the moment and focused on helping the poor as she and Allan neared Nettlestone.

_**A Week Or So Later...**_

"My father has grown quite fond of you, you know. He particularly enjoys the stories you tell him of the Holy Land. He says that it's all so very different from anything we know, but, at the same time, so much the same. It quite intrigues him. Thank you again for taking so much time with him." Marian beamed at Djaq.

"He is a wonderful man. I am truly sorry that I was never able to see Nottingham under his supervision. How incredibly different things must have been." She answered after taking a sip of her tea. It was late afternoon and Djaq had stopped by to check in on Sir Edward.

Lately, she had begun to be a bit more at ease around Marian. The two women had spent a good deal of time together over the past few weeks. Djaq had informed both Sir Edward and Marian that her constant presence was no longer necessary to his health. He was following her recommendations and was progressing nicely. He only needed brief periods of rest now and then and was starting to venture out, to check on his lands and people, unaccompanied. Djaq only continued to come by and check on him so frequently because his daughter insisted.

"So are you all any closer to uncovering the identity of this mysterious visitor that Robin is so concerned about?" Marian asked.

"Not exactly. We still have only the clues provided by the message, and those were vague, at best. But Allan has gotten a few pieces of information from one of his favorite chamber maids over the past few weeks. Apparently, the visitor, this 'son' of someone, is due to arrive here from London any day now and the Sheriff has been instructed to have a payment ready. Robin feels it is significant and warrants further attention."

"But you are not so sure?"

"Robin is the leader and I trust his instincts. That is enough for me." Djaq responded.

"I have been trying to get Guy to open up as much as I dare, but it isn't easy. I cannot have him suspecting my motives." Djaq was now looking at her with a serious expression and Marian squirmed beneath her gaze.

"Be careful, Marian." Was all she said, causing Marian to sigh.

"Oh not you too, Djaq! You sound just like Robin. I am a big girl and I think I can handle myself."

"Marian, he almost killed you once. Granted, he did not know it was you, but he is not a man to be toyed with. He will be on his guard with you now more than ever and he may not so easily be swayed by your charms this time." Djaq warned.

"It's not as bad as all that. He has not completely forgiven me for what I did, true, but we have seen each other at the Council of Nobles and he is no longer uncivil to me when we meet. I am actually going to see him at his home--"

"Robin's home." Djaq supplied.

"Yes, of course, Robin's home. Anyway, I will see him there this afternoon and, hopefully I can convince him to accompany me on a ride tomorrow. I think that he actually _wants_ to be friends again." Marian was really rather proud of her contributions to the outlaws' cause. She missed being useful to Robin.

"Having to convince him to go on an outing with you is a far cry from where you were several months ago. Leaving a man at the alter is no small insult. I am actually surprised that you were not punished, given his association with the Sheriff."

"Yes, well, I managed to convince Guy that I was so shocked and hurt to find out that he'd gone along with the Sheriff's lie about the King's return that I simply took leave of my senses. I told him that it caused me great disappointment to know that he would base our marriage on a lie."

"And that worked?" Djaq asked skeptically. That man really was gullible, then. That, or he was far too deeply in love with Marian to sense when he was being tricked. Either way he was a fool.

"It seemed to at least convince him that I was not in league with Robin. That was enough for me. I could not have my father put in danger because of me."

"Of course." Djaq paused and took a deliberately long sip of her tea. "On that topic, Marian, I do not think that we should risk the danger posed to you and your father by my coming here so frequently. I have told you that he no longer requires my care. I think that it is best if we make this my last such visit." She stated carefully.

She knew that Marian's continued request for her company went far deeper than general concern for her father's health. She seemed almost to look to Djaq as a life line. A link to the life she wanted for herself. A link to Robin and the forest and a fight for justice that she could not openly embrace.

"My father will miss you." Marian had known that this was coming. It was not the first time that Djaq had expressed concern over the danger such visits were putting them in.

"He will be fine. He is strong and he will manage just as he did before." Djaq wondered if they were still talking about Sir Edward. After all, it did not seem to her that he would have any trouble adjusting to her absence. He was very kind to her, yes, and the two of them had developed a healthy respect for one another. But he was hardly _dependent_ upon her.

He _did _seem to look forward to her visits, but that was mostly because she did not coddle him. He seemed to appreciate the fact that she did not honey coat anything. She spoke to him as plainly as possible and he seemed to find that a refreshing change.

But Marian was the one who seemed to grow more and more dependent upon her presence. And, although the two of them had gotten to know each other somewhat better over the past several weeks, Djaq could not help feeling somewhat strangled by the attention. And the threat of danger was quite real. Especially if Marian were going to attempt to renew her close acquaintance with Gisbourne.

Marian gave no definite answer, so the two of them finished their tea and Djaq took her leave. As soon as she had gone, Marian donned her finest outfit and had her groom saddle her horse. She headed off in the direction of Locksley, hoping, for the first time ever, that Guy was around and Robin was not.

_**A Week Or So Later**_

Allan stood back and quietly suppressed a laugh as he watch Djaq and Much sparring. They had been doing this, he knew, quite a bit lately. Much insisted that it helped them both to keep in shape and maintain their skills, but Allan knew that Djaq really didn't need this much practice. She always got plenty of exercise and practiced with her sword regularly, both alone or with one of them. So he was pretty sure that she was doing this more for Much's benefit than her own.

Much wasn't a bad fighter, Allan had to give him that. He had the ability and the training. He was just unpolished and rather clumsy. He would look down at his feet often to make sure he wasn't about to trip over anything and he regularly stopped to wipe the sweat out of his eyes or to voice some thought that, no doubt, had just popped into his head. Plus, he gripped his sword so tightly that his movements were stilted and he routinely let his guard down causing Djaq to have to stop within a hairsbreadth of wounding him over and over again. It was driving her crazy, Allan could tell.

She was an extremely focused fighter and she was always alert and ready to change tactics mid fight, or, even mid swing, if the need arose. Much was lucky to have her as a partner. Allan doubted if anyone else, besides probably Robin, would have the patience to endure all of the stopping and starting that sparring with Much generally involved.

"Okay. Okay. That's enough for today. I'm too winded to go on." Much panted.

"We have barely started. What will you do in a real fight, Hm? Ask for a time out? Say 'Oh, excuse me, big fella, but would you mind lowering your weapon while I have a quick rest?'" Djaq chastised.

"No. But this is _not_ a real fight and I'm tired."

"So, Much," Allan called over to them, "you've taken to trying to beat up pregnant women now, have you? What's next? Old ladies and children?"

"Very funny." Much replied, unamused.

"Pregnant or not, I can still take _you_ in a fight." Djaq nodded in Allan's direction.

"S'at a challenge?" He asked, eyebrows raised and a grin on his face.

"Call it what you will." She answered, smiling. "Come on, Much. If you are tired, we can be done." And she turned towards Allan. "Is Will with you?" She asked hopefully.

Allan had to make a deliberate effort to keep his look and tone even as he took in the expectation in her eyes. "Nah. I haven't seen him. Maybe he's back at camp." In fact, he had seen precious little of his friend over the past few weeks. Will always seemed to either be gone or on his way out. It was not the first time that Djaq had inquired about his absence.

Djaq and Much walked towards Allan and the three of them made their way back to camp.

"You," Allan whispered to Much just out of Djaq's earshot, "be careful with her. I _mean_ it."

"Well it's not as if I plan to run a sword through her belly, now is it?" Much said exasperatedly.

"_Just be careful_." Allan emphasized for good measure.

As they neared the camp, they saw that Will was, indeed, there. Allan noticed that he looked nervous and unable to relax.

"Hey, stranger." Djaq greeted with a hopeful smile that nearly broke Allan's heart.

"Hey." Will answered without meeting her gaze and offered a tentative half-smile of his own. He guessed that she had been sparring with either Much or Allan because she was sweaty and her hair was damp and matted. She was covered in a light sheen of moisture causing her top to cling to her subtle curves. Of course, he had seen all of that as she'd been walking up, he wouldn't dare look at her now that she was so close.

He wanted nothing so much as to lift her up in his arms and carry her off to the stream. He thought about how he would carefully peel away the layers of clothing from her damp and sticky body and gently lower her into the cool and lapping waters. He would bathe her face and her hair and every inch of her beautiful body...

"Are you alright, Will?" She was asking. "You look so tired. You should rest, you work far too hard."

He noticed Allan and Much were making their way inside, leaving just the two of them. "I'm fine. Don't worry. I just have some woodwork that I'm trying to get done with. Actually, I'd better get back to it."

He could not stand much more of this. Being close to her was almost as agonizing as being away from her so much. But he had to get a handle on his feelings before he did something they would both regret. He didn't even dare to think what. So he stayed away from her as much as he could bear to.

He was careful to always be here when he was needed, though. He never missed his nightly shift on watch, and he still completed his chores around camp. And he never missed a delivery. He knew that those things were important and he took his responsibilities seriously. He just tried to make reasonably sure that he did all of those things while maintaining a safe distance between him and Djaq.

"Is it something for one of the villagers? They would understand if you took a break now and then. You are going to make yourself ill." He really did look exhausted, she thought.

"Um, yeah. For one of the villagers." He lied. "And I'll be fine."

"Why don't you come inside with me and have something to eat. Or we can go for a walk or something. You do not look well."

"You don't have to worry about me." He said gently.

"How can I not? Not only am I your physician, but I am your wife now. It is my job to worry about you."

The word _wife_ was like a blade to his chest. Why did she have to be so caring? It sometimes made him want to drop to his knees in front of her and beg her to love him. How pathetic! But he really just wanted to cling to her and ask her _why? Why can't you love me, Djaq? I'm your husband and the father of your child!_ _And I love you more than anything in the world. Why?_

But he was just too afraid that she would tell him. That she would look him straight in the eye and, with all of the bluntness and rationality that he so loved her for, tell him exactly why not. Because he was poor and uneducated. He had absolutely nothing to offer to her or a child. He knew that she was not concerned about wealth, but there was a vast difference between even _semi_-comfort and the way _they_ lived.

He didn't even have a family he could welcome her into. Warm and loving people who would surround her with joy and affection. Only a kid brother who lived so far away that Will never saw him. Will knew that he had no home and no money and no prospects for having either anytime in the foreseeable future. That was why. And how could he blame her?

"You shouldn't worry. I'm fine. You should look after _yourself_. I'll see you later, okay? If it's late when I get back, sleep well." _my love. _And with that, he disappeared into the forest.

Some hours later, Djaq sat by herself and let her thoughts overtake her. There was really no excuse for her feeling abandoned. She knew that. Her head knew that. But her heart...well that was another matter entirely. She remembered telling Will that the reason she could not stay in England now that she was with child was because she felt certain that the gang would end up resenting all of the adjustments that such an arrangement would require. That, indeed, _he_ would resent things as well.

The thought had made sense to her at the time. They had accepted her into their little band, even though she was a woman, because she had shown them that she needed no special treatment. That no allowances needed to be made for her comfort. That she could fight and survive and endure as well as any man among them. She had set out to prove to them that any difficulties that would ordinarily arise from having a woman around would never be an issue with a woman such as she was. Independent and capable. Androgynous and asexual.

So the thought of them having to accommodate her and her condition seemed like reneging on that unspoken agreement. She just hadn't thought that they would be able to accept it. Or accept _her_. And she had been certain that it would be an added difficulty that Will simply did not need in his life. He was so passionate and driven and even single-minded about helping the poor and stopping the Sheriff that she couldn't see herself trapping him or saddling him with such a distraction. A child in the forest with them would be a burden and a constant danger.

So the thoughts behind her words to him then had been rational and sensible, coming from that part of her mind that was not yet being controlled by her heart. But deep down, she had actually wanted him to convince her otherwise. She had all too easily allowed him to talk her into staying and raising their child together. Now she was starting to wonder if they had, perhaps, acted without having given it proper thought.

She was starting to fear that she had been right about it all being too much of an adjustment. Not to the gang. They seemed to be fine with everything. Although it was still early and there hadn't really been any noticeable changes yet. But, based on their attitude so far, she had begun to think that, even if it required some creativity, they were more than willing to make the necessary changes. That's what families do.

No, _they_ were not the problem. Surprisingly, the reason she was sitting here, feeling foolish and lonely, was Will. She had just always expected to have his friendship. Maybe that was stupid and arrogant of her. After all, he didn't _owe_ her that. She had just assumed it would be so. They had always been friends and she knew that she was going to need his friendship now more than ever. But it was finally becoming clear to her that he was having difficulty adjusting to their arrangement.

She thought, at first, that perhaps it was because they were not intimate with one another. That maybe he felt that it was unfair to him. That he should get something for his trouble. He had, after all, committed himself to her for life. And, frankly, the idea of sleeping with him, even if he did not return her feelings, was growing more and more appealing by the day. Who was she kidding? By the hour, was more like it.

She missed him in the worst possible way. She wanted so much to wrap her arms around him and kiss him and feel his hands on her skin and his lips on hers. She felt all sorts of new urges that, while distinctly unladylike, were not wholly unpleasant. And, although it would mean swallowing quite a large gulp of her pride, she had resolved that she would take Will any way she could have him. That even if he did not exactly _love_ her, they had a relationship based on trust and friendship. That would have to be enough.

So she had decided that, the next time they were alone together, she was going to steer things in that direction. But that had proved more difficult than she would have imagined. She had thought that the hardest part would be working up the nerve to initiate things once the opportunity had presented itself. But that never happened. There was simply never a time when they were alone. So she finally concluded that she would have to _make_ her own opportunity in this situation, just as she had always done in her life. She would pull him aside and let him know her intentions.

But she could never seem to catch up with him. He was just never around. He kept himself so busy that she could no longer convince herself that his absences were not deliberate. He was still kind and polite whenever she saw him, he just did not seem to want to be alone with her. So she decided that she owed him his space. After all, he had given her the space she'd needed when she'd asked him to, and the least she could do was return the favor.

She knew that he would eventually come to terms with their new life together and that, when he did, he would give their child his undivided attention. She just had to be patient. But it was so hard. He looked so tired all the time and she wanted to tell him that she understood, that she knew that this was hard for him and that she was more than willing to help him in any way she could. But she decided that it was best not to pressure him and to let him come to things in his own time. That seemed only fair.

Yet here she sat, just outside the camp entrance, not wanting to go inside and face his empty bunk. It was late and she was tired, but she hated going to bed, yet again, without knowing that he was home and safe. He seemed to come back later and later these days and she usually ended up going inside long before now due to sheer exhaustion. Her condition was making her increasingly tired.

But tonight she just couldn't make herself go in. Not only because he wasn't there, but also because she had been having some really disturbing dreams lately and she was not very eager to get to sleep. It was always basically the same dream, although some of the details varied slightly from time to time.

She was in the desert, but she didn't feel at home there as she always had. She felt out of place. And she was always on some sort of very important mission fraught with danger. She could never remember, upon waking, what the mission had been, but in the dream she always knew that she would fail. And, although she knew it was no more significant than a thousand other nightmares she'd had throughout her life, this one frightened her.

So she sat alone, in the dark, and she waited until she was so tired that she could barely keep her eyes open. Maybe then she could keep the dreams at bay. At least for a night.

_**Later That Night**_

_Djaq was running again, clutching her small bundle to her chest and fleeing as fast as her legs and the shifting sands would allow. She had to complete her mission. She kept losing her footing and stumbling, her feet no longer gliding effortlessly over the sand as they once had. She crossed the desert like a foreigner now...awkwardly, with stilted movements. _

_Still, she had to persevere. She was being counted on. Her mission was of the utmost importance and she desperately feared that she would fail miserably and then everything would be lost. She did not know why she had been chosen for such an important task when anyone could see that she was not up to the challenge. She was not worthy of such a purpose and she knew it._

_She was getting colder as the night progressed and she was running out of options. She had to stop running but she was afraid and very alone. Then, all of a sudden, she was in her own warm bed and all thoughts of running and danger were gone. She was warm and comfortable and her father was there. Yes, she was sure that it was her father. He was the only one who ever kissed her on the forehead._

_**A Week Or So Later**_

If there was one thing Allan A' Dale knew, it was women. He ought to...he'd known enough of them in his life. He knew what they wanted and what they expected from a man like him. And he made sure never to disappoint. He knew just what to say or do in order to get exactly what he wanted from them. And, since that was either their valuables or their company, it wasn't long after getting his hands on one or both that he promptly lost interest in them. That's what women had always been to Allan.

Yep. The means to a quick meal, a dry place to rest for a night or so, a warm body to snuggle up to. That was it. Then he was on his way. Sometimes with some intricately woven tale about family duty or secret missions for king and country that would often earn him some meaningful token of her undying affection that he would promptly hock a few towns over. But, more often than not, it was done unceremoniously, without a word of farewell. He'd just silently creep out before she woke up. It kept things simple.

That, of course, was before Djaq_._ She had changed something in him. So much so that he'd actually taken to thinking of his life as belonging to two _different_ Allans. The old Allan, who thought of people as disposable, and the one he was now, after Djaq. Course, it wasn't just Djaq who had turned his life and his priorities on their ear. He owed some of the credit for that to Robin. But the main people who'd had an impact on him were Will and Djaq. They were his two best friends.

It didn't even matter that Djaq was a girl. Or maybe it did. Maybe that was _why_ she meant so much to him...because she was different than any girl he'd ever known. Although, he guessed that he really wouldn't have any way of knowing that considering he'd never stuck around long enough to get to _know_ any of the others.

But Djaq was just sort of thrown into his life one day and he'd been forced to accept early on that none of his charming playfulness and smooth words were likely to work on her. That, in fact, she saw right through him. That had been quite a blow to his ego at first. But, after trying all of his lines and charms and getting absolutely nowhere, he was forced to try something completely unorthodox.

He started treating her like a person. And that's what she was. A regular person. A friend. It was weird, but a lot of the time he pretty much forgot that she was a girl at all. Most of the time she was just his helpful and clever mate. Someone who made him laugh and always had his back. As for the rest of the time...well...he usually preferred not to think about that. It was best that way. But what he had told Will about her was absolutely true. He was _not _in love with her. No way. He liked her, sure. A lot, in fact. But there was nothing more to it.

It was just that Will's admission that he'd thought that Allan had been harboring feelings for her all this time had made him start to wonder _what if_. But he knew deep down that it could never have worked. Djaq was not the type of woman he could simply walk out on. Oh no. She would expect more out of him than he was probably capable of giving, and the possibility of hurting her or disappointing her was a risk that he was just unwilling to take. So he had always labeled what he felt for her as friendship, and, if there were any other fuzzy feelings swimming around inside of him, he would just not give those a name at all.

Besides, Will loved her.

He always had. Everyone knew it and Allan had actually been glad. There was no better man than Will Scarlett. No sir. If ever there was a man who could be trusted to love and care for Djaq the way she deserved, it was Will. Not that Allan had ever thought there would be much of a chance for them, considering he had begun to suspect that she really wasn't into men. Not in _that_ way. And anyway, Will was just too damned shy for his own good. But he'd never worried about Will _hurting_ her. None of them had.

That's what made this all so maddening. What in the hell was Will thinking? Djaq was not the kind of woman you could simply ignore. But that's just what he had been doing lately. Ignoring her. Allan wasn't sure if the others noticed it or not. But _he_ _definitely_ saw it. And it was driving him mad.

Allan didn't think he could take one more day of seeing her eyes light up whenever the hatch swung open and someone stepped inside, only to go dim again when that someone turned out not to be Will. Allan didn't even know where he was spending most of his time these days. But it surely wasn't with his wife.

And it caused a prick to his heart each and every time there was somewhere to go or deliveries to make and Will went off without her. She just looked so sadly confused. Like she wasn't sure what she'd done wrong or how to get his attention. She was completely baffled by his behavior. Frankly, so was Allan. And it was really starting to piss him off.

"I just don't get you." Allan told his friend as they walked through the forest on their way back from the castle.

"What?" Will really hadn't been paying close attention so it was possible he'd missed a part of the conversation.

"I _said_, I just don't get you." Allan repeated harshly.

Nope, apparently Will hadn't missed a piece, as usual Allan was just not being clear. "Am I suppose to guess what you're on about?"

"You bloody damn well know what I'm talking about." He waited for Will to respond and when he still looked clueless, Allan offered more. "Well let me ask you this. Where was your mind just now? Or an hour ago? Or last week? Or two weeks ago? Or--"

Will just looked at him and again wondered if he was meant to be getting this.

"_Djaq! _I'm talking about Djaq!" Allan practically shouted.

"What _about_ Djaq?"

"Whenever you're away from her, all you do is moon over her and look like a lovesick fool. But as soon as she's within kissing distance, you treat her like she's nobody special." Allan said rather angrily.

"That's not true. And besides, never you mind about her kissing distance."

"Oh it's true alright. You paid more attention to her before you put a bun in her oven than you do now."

"Shut up, Allan."

"Well it's true."

"Don't refer to her that way." Will said, wishing he could steer the conversation in another direction.

"Whatever. All I'm sayin' is I just don't get you. Any fool can see that you two are head over heels in love with each other. You're bloody _married_, for God's sake. And you act like she's no more important to you than.....than _Much_! What's that about?"

"Just leave it, Allan! You wouldn't understand. Let us work things out for ourselves. Please?" He didn't feel equal to the task of explaining why he'd been avoiding Djaq.

He felt sure that Allan was exaggerating anyway. Sure, he was having quite a time of keeping his feelings for her in check, so he _may_ have been somewhat less attentive than he wanted to be with her, but he did not ignore her and he certainly didn't treat her like she was Much.

"_What's-there-to-work-out, mate?_" He asked slowly, annunciating every word as if he were talking to a small child. A very stubborn and ridiculously stupid small child, thought Allan. In his opinion, his friend needed a good swift kick in the rear.

"Just leave it alone. Drop it. And don't go bothering Djaq with this nonsense either. The last thing she needs is you prying into her affairs."

"No offense, but it's really none of your business what I talk about with Djaq. Is it?" Allan was hoping to provoke the bloody fool into staking his claim on Djaq. To make him get angry enough to tell Allan that Djaq was _his_ wife and that he loved her. Then maybe Allan would at least have something to work with here.

"Come on, Allan. She's got enough to deal with. And besides, I told you before that she made it clear she doesn't want my attentions. Okay? Satisfied? Is that what you wanted to hear?" Damn that Allan. He could be so bloody stubborn and inconsiderate sometimes. Will knew that he probably meant well, but he really had no idea what was going on between them and he should really just butt out.

"Well that don't stop you from pulling up her covers for her at night and kissing her on the forehead now does it?" He was gratified to see Will turn a stark shade of pale before reddening more than Allan would have thought possible.

"Yeah? Well..." He hadn't had any idea that Allan or any of the others had seen him at her bedside. He really didn't care about them, but he hoped _she _didn't know. Of course she didn't. She couldn't. She was always asleep. Besides, if she had known she would have either given him a serious telling off or punched him. Either option was brutal, so he hoped she didn't know.

"Yeah well..._What_?" Allan was glad he had finally hit a nerve. Will had to get out of this shyness or this mood or whatever it was before he lost Djaq. Allan already knew how much Will's behavior was hurting her.

"Well, she tosses and turns when she has bad dreams. That's all." Will answered in a small voice. "And she kicks off her covers. So I cover her back up. That's it. And she's none the wiser so there's no harm done. She wouldn't like it if she knew. So don't tell her." He shot a pleading look in Allan's direction.

"Will," Allan said in a gentler tone as he stopped walking to turn and look at his friend, "you don't really believe that nonsense. Do you? That she doesn't want your attention or whatever? _'Course_ she does. She married you, didn't she? She went to bloody bed with you-- _Whoa whoa! Calm down, mate._"

Will had grabbed Allan by the shoulders and was trying his best not to ram a fist to the side of his head. "Don't talk about her like that. She's not some kitchen girl or something. She's..._Djaq_." He said through gritted teeth.

"Right. Sorry." Allan wasn't quite sure _why_ he was sorry. She was pregnant, so it was pretty clear that Will had taken her to bed. It wasn't like it was a secret anymore. And he hadn't said anything vulgar, had he? Okay, so the bit about the bun in her oven may have been a little colorful. And what was wrong with kitchen girls, anyway? Allan liked kitchen girls. But Allan did not think he should antagonize Will any further. He was clearly very edgy and bothered.

"Just leave it." Will said for the last time before turning towards the direction of their camp.

"But you got it all wrong." Allan called after him. "You're gonna mess this up if you don't wizen up." But Will wasn't listening and Allan knew that he wouldn't get any further with him today. So he followed him back to camp in order to tell Robin what they'd learned at the castle about the mysterious visitor, but he slowed his pace enough to keep at a safe distance just in case Will's temper flared again. _No point playin' with fire_, Allan figured.


	9. Women's Work

**Women's Work **

"Marian, you really do not have to do this. I am certain that you did not come all the way out to the forest just to get all dirty picking herbs with me." Djaq said as the two of them sat on the ground bundling some flowers they had just picked.

"Nonsense. I enjoy it. Besides," she paused, contemplating whether or not to continue, "I...I have missed your company as of late. It's odd in a way. I have been spending more time out here in the forest with the gang, now that my father is getting on so well, and yet it seems that you are rarely around these days. You're not avoiding me, are you, Djaq?" She teased.

"Of course not. I have been...well, I have been occupied in Loxley." She replied somewhat vaguely.

"Yes, that is what the boys all tell me. But none of them seem exactly sure what you have been doing there. Is it something to do with Robin's plan?"

"No it's...well..." She broke off wondering where to start and how much to say. She didn't know how much Marian knew about the things that Djaq had only recently discovered herself.

_She thought back to the day, a few weeks earlier, when Robin had walked in one afternoon while Djaq was alone at the camp and handed her a small sack containing some pears. This, in itself, was curious, given the fact that she could count on one hand the number of times there had been any fruit or vegetables served since she had first joined the gang. Those men always seemed perfectly content to eat nothing but bread and meat. Much would sometimes grudgingly consent to adding roots or berries to a meal, provided Djaq went out and collected them herself, but fruit was almost unheard of._

"_Pears? Where did you get these?" She had asked Robin._

"_They're from the women of Loxley." He'd replied._

"_Oh. Much will not be pleased." She chuckled, anticipating his reaction as something along the lines of **What exactly am I supposed to do with these?** "I am surprised that you bought them, though. I rarely see you men eat any fruit." She said absently as she unpacked the pears and set them in Much's kitchen._

"_I didn't. They...they were a gift." He said hesitantly, as if he were not quite certain how much to tell her._

"_Oh. Since when do you accept charity from the villagers?" She wondered aloud. "You are always so careful not to encourage that." He was behaving strangely and she was not sure why. What could be so secretive about a bunch of pears?_

"_I offered to pay for them, but she would not hear of it. They..." His voice trailed off uncharacteristically._

"_Robin, what on earth is the matter with you? Is something wrong? Has something happened in Loxley?" _

"_They sent them for **you**." He paused for a moment as if contemplating something very serious. "They know." He practically whispered. And he'd looked at her apologetically and, she'd thought, a bit fearfully._

_She, on the other hand, had absolutely no idea what he was talking about. So she'd just stared at him blankly._

"_About you and Will being married and that you're...expecting." He said tentatively, pointing briefly at her stomach._

"_Oh. But how did they-- Oh." Of course she knew. And as she opened her mouth to voice the answer to her own partially asked question, Robin did the same. So that they ended up speaking simultaneously._

"_Much." They said together, causing them both to laugh._

"_It's fine, Robin. Really. I am actually rather surprised that it took him this long to say anything to anyone. But I am not upset, if that's what you feared. There is no reason for it to remain a secret. Indeed, people are certain to find out sooner or later." He had seemed surprised by her response and, actually, so was she. It was not so many months ago when she had planned to run away before anyone had the chance to find out about her condition._

"_He's actually been dying to tell people, but he managed to contain himself pretty well until the other day. You know Much, though. Once he gets started on a topic, there's no stopping him." He seemed much more at ease now after seeing that she was not upset by the news._

"_But, what has this to do with pears?" She nodded towards the fruit, crinkling her nose in confusion._

"_Apparently, they are good for women in your condition. I don't really know. But I was asked to give them to you by Bessie. She insisted and she would not accept any sort of payment." He had told her, clearly deciding that this explained it all._

"_I see. Well that is very kind of her." Truth be told, Djaq was extremely touched by the gesture. And not a little surprised. She had always understood that the villagers mistrusted her and never quite accepted her the way they did the other outlaws. It had always made sense to her, though. She was different and they feared anything they did not understand. So this was something new and Djaq was not certain how to respond. "But she must accept some sort of payment for them. The people of the villages have enough difficulty keeping their own families fed. I cannot have them using their meager food stores on me."_

"_You do not wish to insult them, Djaq." He warned._

"_Why should anyone be insulted? We **always** pay for our supplies. Sure, sometimes the villagers try to refuse our money out of gratitude for all we do for them, but we always insist. Why should this be any different?" She was confused._

"_This is not just some villagers, Djaq. It's the people of Loxley. More specifically, the **women** of Loxley. And they've done this for **you**." He raised his eyebrows and nodded, as if to indicate that she should now understand. _

_But she did not. So she gave him a strange look and he continued._

"_You must realize that, out of all of the villages we help, we have the closest connection to Loxley."_

"_Because it is **yours**." She offered._

"_No." He paused and shook his head slowly. "Because it is **Will's**." He said._

"_Will's?"_

_He sighed. "Loxley was his **home** and, in many ways, it still is. He never really left there. Not the way that John or even I did. And even though it was part of my estate, I was not really **one** of them. I tried to be a good master and always see to it that everyone's needs were met. But that is not the same as being one of them. Not like Will." He explained._

"_Yes, I know that Will has a special place in his heart for the people of Loxley, Robin. But what has this to do with pears? Or with **me**, for that matter?" _

"_The people of Loxley care very much for Will. He is one of their own and they recognize how much he does for them. You must remember that his family was a part of that village for a long time. His parents were well liked and respected there. His grandparents lived and died there. He is very much their native son and most of them have known him all of his life." He looked pointedly at her._

"_Alright." She prodded him to go on._

"_You are his wife now. And you are carrying his child. I think that this is their way of welcoming you into their fold, so to speak. Besides, Djaq, they know how much you give of yourself so that they and the people of the other villages can experience a better way of life. They probably want to show their gratitude...woman to woman. Do you understand?" He questioned._

"_I...I think so." Actually, she was somewhat taken aback by, not only this gesture, but by Robin's explanation. _

_Was this really their way of reaching out to her? For Will's sake? She had never thought before about his relationship with the Loxley people. She knew that it had been his home, but she hadn't given it much thought beyond that. But of course they would love him. First of all, who wouldn't love a man like Will Scarlett? He cared for everyone. There was never a task that he wouldn't take on if it meant making people's lives better. He was wonderful and dedicated and they were lucky to have him. _

_But when she thought about what Robin had said, that he was their own native son, she was filled with a strange sense of pride to know that they would embrace her because of her relationship to him. How odd. She had always assumed that she would fight tooth and nail to avoid being known based on her associations with a man. Be it father, husband, or some other. She never wanted to live in a man's shadow. Even when she had pretended to be her brother it had been more for safety's sake. But this was different. She was filled with warmth at the thought that they they might learn to accept her and might even approve of her marriage to Will. _

She was brought back to the present and the woman sitting beside her.

"Marian?" She began.

"Hmm?"

"Do you know much about wise women and the work they do?" She asked.

"You mean the midwives? They deliver babies. That's all I know of them. Oh, and they sometimes provide treatments for headaches. I know that because Sarah, our cook, told me so once. Are you going to see a midwife about your delivery? I had been wondering if you might not do it on your own. You know, since you're a physician." Marian replied.

Djaq laughed.

"Did I say something funny?" Marian asked.

"No. Well, yes. It's just ironic, I suppose. I am a physician and yet I know nothing of these matters. My skills lie in other areas of health and body. I have had no training and very little experience when it comes to pregnancy and childbirth."

"Oh. Yes I suppose that makes sense. I guess that physicians do not participate in such things. I just thought that, being a _female_ physician, it might be different for you." Marian responded.

"That's just it. You would think that, being a woman and having medical training, I would have considered the female aspect of medicine. I was trained while assisting my father on the battlefields, of course. So that meant that I worked only on men. But I never even had the slightest _curiosity_ about women's matters. Even though our physicians do seem to consider female matters as more a part of general health than do your physicians here, I have always considered it beneath me. I have to admit, Marian. I've been somewhat of a snob." Djaq said, looking down.

"A what? Djaq, are you mad? _You_ are no snob."

"Oh but I am. I am ashamed to say that I have considered myself far superior to other woman for most of my life. I have seen them as rather frivolous. I have never valued their contributions. It's not that I wanted to be a man. I've always been proud of being a woman. But I've considered myself better than other women because of my ability to function in a _man's_ world." Djaq replied bitterly. She had only recently realized these things about herself and was having trouble reconciling them.

"That makes _sense_, Djaq. Aside from being a physician, you were a soldier. Another occupation reserved for men. And now you share your life with Robin's gang. _All_ men. I can certainly understand why being strong and capable enough to handle such a life would give you a certain sense of _pride_." Marian offered. She had often envied Djaq's ability to so effortlessly interact with the men. She had even, occasionally, seen Djaq order them around. And they listened!

"But here is the thing." Djaq responded. "I have recently learned that while I was so busy thinking I was conquering a man's world, I have been completely ignorant of everything concerning my _own_ gender. I understood the basics, of course. I knew what I had to based on necessity. But there is just so much that I do not know. About myself, about pregnancy, about babies and women and all of it. It turns out that I have been rather a fool."

"Where is all of this coming from?" Marian asked. It was strange seeing Djaq so down on herself. She was usually so confident and sure. Although, Marian had to admit to herself that she was touched that Djaq was choosing to confide these things in her. She recognized that she was being given a rare glimpse into the inner workings of the woman's mind. She was also rather pleased to be in a position to offer encouragement.

"Well, when I asked you about wise women, I was thinking of more than just childbirth." Djaq sighed, took a deep breath, and related the story of the pears that had been given to her by the women of Loxley. When she had finished, Marian's face wore a mixture of confusion and warmth, just as Djaq's probably had when it had first taken place.

"So this Bessie woman wanted to reach out to you? That's really lovely. The pears were a very kind gesture." Marian responded.

"Actually, Bessie and the pears are just the beginning, Marian."

"Oh?"

"Apparently, there are many women who carry a certain..._knowledge_. I really knew nothing of this until a few weeks ago. It seems that midwives, and their assistants, of which Bessie is one, pass this knowledge on to one another down through the generations. They keep it alive and...well, apparently, they have to keep it rather secret." Djaq explained.

"Secret? Why? And what sort of knowledge? Surely you are not talking about _witchcraft_?" Marian was a little bit frightened now. She considered herself a sensible woman, not some superstitious ninny, but witchcraft was not to be dabbled in.

Djaq laughed. "No, Marian. Of course it is not witchcraft. It has to do with herbs and nature and all sorts of things. They have _so_ much knowledge. You would not believe it. A lot of it I know already. Like the uses for many of the herbs. But they also know different ways to use the bark of different trees and how to apply pressure to certain parts of the body to reduce pain or aid in healing. It's remarkable." Djaq became excited every time she thought about it. These women had opened up a door to a whole other world.

"But surely they do not know more than you do about medicine. Your _father_ was a physician. You performed surgery on me and saved my life when I was stabbed and close to _death_. That is no small feat."

"Well they do not have any knowledge of surgical practices and they seem to know very little about preventing infection. That much is true. But they do know some things that I was never aware of before. I wonder if the women at home know such things as well. I never thought to find out." Djaq mused.

"But then, why must it be kept secret?" Marian wondered.

"I will tell it to you as Matilda—she seems to be the most revered of the wise women--"

"Yes. I know Matilda. She has been delivering babies since before I was born. In fact, she delivered me. Probably Robin too."

"Really? Well, I will tell it to you as she told it to me. She says that this knowledge has been around for thousands of years. Probably since the beginning of time. She says that, at first, men were fine with women being healers. The men wanted no part of childbirth, so they preferred that it be a woman's domain. They stayed as far away from it as possible.--"

"Humph! Typical. They want to be around to make the baby, though. Don't they?" Marian laughed, but then quickly thought about what she'd said and looked at her friend. "Oh. I'm sorry Djaq. I didn't mean--"

But Djaq laughed too. "No, Marian. It's fine. And you are right. So anyway, men did not want to be around for childbirth duty. And, by extension, they allowed women to have dominion over most illnesses and even prevention of illness as well. But, as time went on and this knowledge developed and expanded, men began to feel left out and rather jealous. They resented the fact that women understood the human body in a way that they could not. And that women seemed to have a grasp on nature and the earth's bounty that they could not understand. They saw it as a power that we—women, that is—possessed and were using against them." Djaq paused, unsure how much Marian would be open to hearing. Especially from _her_, a non Christian.

She took a deep breath before deciding to continue. "Matilda also said that religion played a part as well. That women taking charge of their own bodies meant that fewer people were going to priests and holy men to be healed by prayer, which meant less money paid to churches. So the churches started labeling these women as witches. And men were more than happy to believe it. Men figured that it explained why women could do things they could not. Even pregnancy and childbirth began to be seen as god's curse on evil women. So the women started dealing with such matters in secret."

"Is that true? Not about it being a curse, but the rest of it? Matilda can be a little out there sometimes." Marian inquired skeptically.

"I do not know, Marian. But I do know that men will go to almost any lengths to keep women out of anything they deem important. Look at the challenges that you and I have had to face just to do the things that are important to us. The lies we have had to tell in order to be who we wanted to be. When viewed in light of that, this story does not sound so far-fetched to me." Djaq answered.

"You're right about that. So that is what you have been doing in Loxley, then? Learning to be a midwife and deliver babies? It sounds intriguing." Marian had always had an interest in healing. She found it helpful to have the ability to treat her own minor injuries and give herself stitches and such when possible. After all, The Nightwatchman could hardly go to someone for help in such instances. But she hadn't been aware that there was an entire subculture of women right in her own backyard who possessed knowledge unknown even to physicians.

"To be honest, I have been somewhat hesitant about the childbirth aspects of it. But we have been comparing uses for different herbs and curatives and the like. And I have been sharing some of my own knowledge with _them_. It has been very interesting for me. I never thought that the women here would be open to learning from me. Although, I suppose that they may have thought the same of me." Djaq explained.

Marian decided against questioning Djaq about her hesitation over learning about childbirth. It was not the first time that she had swallowed a similar question unasked. Djaq seemed to be having a very difficult time relating to her pregnancy. She seemed to shy away from questions concerning the actual baby, and to stay focused on the pregnancy itself. Almost as if, it seemed to Marian, she could not quite think far enough ahead to the _child_, and could only deal with the immediate changes she was facing. So Marian tried hard to avoid any subject that might be upsetting to her.

"So then, do none of the men--Robin and the others, I mean--know what you have been up to in Loxley?" She asked instead. "If, as you say, it's suppose to be a secret?"

"I do not think that it is as big a secret as it sounds. I mean, men must have some idea of what goes on when their wives go to see these women. The villagers can surely not afford to send for a physician when they are ill, so they must be aware that the contributions of midwives go somewhat beyond pregnancy and delivery. That is what I think, anyway." Djaq answered.

"Yes. They can surely not be completely clueless." Marian agreed.

"I think that it is more about women being the keepers of this knowledge than it actually being completely secret. And Robin and the others know that I have been with Bessie and Matilda and some of the other women, helping them and learning from them. They simply do not ask for any details. They probably consider it to be women's work." She laughed. "Except for Much. He actually seems interested and has asked me a few questions. But then, he has always been interested in my knowledge of herbs and surgery."

"That probably goes back to his days in the Holy Land. He treated Robin when he was wounded, and, from what he has said, Robin was not expected to live at one point. So it makes sense that he would have some interest in that area." Marian offered.

"I think that you are right. He has assisted me more than once and I have found him to be very competent."

"So Will does not mind you spending so much time away?" She asked and she thought she saw a dark look pass over Djaq's face.

"Will has been very busy lately." She replied flatly. She had always been a practical woman and she shad no intention of dwelling on her difficulties with Will.

Marian had no desire to pry, so she changed the subject. "So, when will you go to Loxley again?"

"I am going there with John in a little while, actually, in order to make some drop-offs, and then I will take _these_ herbs and a few that I have set aside at camp to Matilda. We are going to compare uses. I also need to arrange to have a new smock made. This one had grown a bit tight for me." Djaq answered, grateful for the change in topic.

"Oh, I see. I should actually be on my way to the castle to see Guy. Well, after I go home and change, that is. You weren't exaggerating about how messy this can be." Marian laughed.

"I do not envy you that task, Marian. It must be very difficult to put on a friendly face with that man given the way you must surely feel about the things he has done."

"It is at times. But I am certain that if I could just get him away from the Sheriff for an afternoon, he would open up to me about their plans. Robin, of course, is making it all even _more_ difficult by constantly making snide comments about my efforts, but I will not allow him to deter me." She said confidently.

"I know how determined you can be. I am sure you will succeed." Djaq said casually as she gathered her herb bundles. Never a woman to mince words, she had said exactly what she meant and did not consider it a big deal.

Marian, on the other hand, was extremely flattered to hear the words. "Thank you, Djaq." She beamed.

"What for?" Djaq wondered.

"For having confidence in me. You may be accustomed to that, however I am not. It is a rare thing when someone trusts my instincts and abilities. It means a great deal to me." She felt a bit foolish for making such a big deal about it. Surely Djaq would think her ridiculous.

"Marian, I have a great amount of respect for you. You walk a very fine line with the men in your life and I know that it can not be easy. And if it seems as though Robin and your father are against you at times, it is only because they care so much. But I know that it does not make it easier. In fact, it probably only makes it harder. Why can't men understand that?"

"Surely _you_ do not have that problem? The men all respect you very much. They trust _your_ instincts." Marian said rather sulkily, making Djaq laugh a little.

"Do you know that the first time I stood next to them in a fight, they all tried their very best to keep me out of harm's way? They jumped in front of me, ran up beside me, and pushed me out of the way more than once. All in order to protect me from the big bad guards. It infuriated me!" Djaq said heatedly, remembering the day.

"So what did you do?" Marian asked, wide-eyed.

"The first time it happened, I was too angry to do anything more than throw myself even more furiously into the fight to prove my worth to them. Which only made me take stupid chances, something that I would never have done otherwise. So I realized that I was only adding fuel to their fire by showing them that I could not really handle myself out there. _That_, I could not have. So I decided to use my head instead."

"How?" Marian was fascinated. She had never considered that there might have been an adjustment period for Djaq when she first came here. That it might have taken time for her to be accepted.

"The second time I went into battle with them I was ready for their over-protectiveness. So I let them do their manly thing and try to beat down any guard who got near me. They had it down to a science too. They would each keep their eye on me and I saw them nod to each other several times throughout the first few moments of the fight, just to kind of let each other know which of them would jump in for me next, I suppose. Or perhaps they were congratulating each other on keeping me safe. They actually thought that they were helping me. I do not know if they thought I would appreciate their efforts, or even that I expected it from them. Perhaps they thought that I did not notice and that they were somehow indulging the little girl and letting her play soldier with them." Djaq spat out. In fact, the memory still irritated her whenever she thought back on those days.

"So how did you teach them a lesson? Please tell me that you put them in their place, Djaq!" Marian was now grinning wickedly.

Djaq smiled too. "Well, as I said, I let them have their way for the first few moments, and then I starting doing the _exact_ same thing to them. I ran up and jumped in front of one or another of them with my weapon in hand whenever a guard got too close for comfort, and I made a point of shoving them out of the way and taking out a threat anytime the need arose. In short, I gave them a big taste of their own medicine."

"You didn't!" Marian practically giggled.

"I did. And, let me tell you, they were _furious_. A man's ego is a fragile thing. They could not believe that I had _dared_ to think that they needed my help. When the fight was finally over and we were all headed back to where we were camped for the night, I could tell how angry they were by their stomping and grumbling. But none of them wanted to be the one to shout at me. They probably feared I would cry or something. Until finally, unable to contain himself any longer, Allan asked me what on earth my problem was. Only his language was much coarser than that. And I replied, as innocently as I could, that I was merely following their example. That I just assumed that was the way people fought in England. Trying to protect their friends in a fight even though the friend was perfectly capable of handling it. I very sweetly told them that when I was a soldier in my country, and I was fighting men who were better trained, better armed, and twice the size of the Sheriff's guards, my comrades and I had always known never to interfere with one another in battle. But English fighting must be different." She finished proudly.

"And what did they say to that?" Marian asked, barely able to contain her enthusiasm.

"Nothing. Not one word. But the next time we fought, they stayed as far out of my way as they possibly could. They still kept an eye on me that day, and for many fights after that one, but they never interfered with me again."

"But what if...I mean, I know you're a good fighter, but what if you...need help one day? Will they be afraid to help you out, or would you even want them too?" Marian asked.

Djaq sighed. "I have often wondered that myself. I know that they are there for me in a fight, just as they know that I am there for them. But, the truth is that I had probably better see to it that I never need them to intervene on my behalf. Because I do not know if they would just come to my aid, or have to think about whether I wanted them to or not, possibly causing them to wait too long. That is sometimes the price we pay for wanting to be treated as an equal, is it not? Because, frankly, _they_ would have no problem if they—the men, I mean—came to each other's aid. Because they would know that it was not done out of protectiveness or a lack of confidence. Only friendship. But, as a woman, I must prove even stronger and more capable because I cannot take the chance that any failure on my part will be seen as weakness. We _both_ walk a fine line. Don't we, Marian?"

Marian merely nodded pensively as they rose in order to say their goodbyes and go their separate ways. But both women found that they felt just a bit less alone in a man's world.

A little while later, as Djaq was walking through the forest with John on their way to Loxley for deliveries, she thought about how much she had been enjoying the past few weeks. Summer had begun again at last and she could not have been happier about it. It had become her favorite English season, not surprisingly.

Although it did not get nearly as hot as her homeland, it was the only time of year when she actually felt comfortable being outside. It still rained quite a bit, of course, but she could live with that. It was preferable, by far, to be wet and warm than it was to be wet and cold, and the farther away from winter she got, the better.

Aside from the wonderful change in weather, she was also pleased to note that she was no longer experiencing nausea and sickness in the mornings. She was relatively certain that it would not return, seeing as it had been over two weeks since her last bout, and this made everyday a little bit better. She still had a constant need to relieve herself, and was dismayed to find that her breasts and her middle section seemed to have begun a competition with one another to see which could stretch the furthest. But she was learning to live with these little inconveniences and would not allow them to dampen her good spirits.

She was no closer to a happy balance in her relationship with Will, however, and this did cause her some concern. But, seeing as she had been so busy learning about the history of the wise women and the work they do, she had had much less time on her hands during which to miss him.

"Will you be staying in the village again after we are done with drop offs?" John's words broke her out of her reverie.

"Yes, I have some things to do there. You do not have to wait as I may be a while." She said, smiling at her friend.

"I'll wait." Was all he said, leaving no room for discussion.

Djaq nodded at him, still smiling, and quickened her pace. As much as she enjoyed helping the villagers by delivering food to them, she found that she could hardly wait to be finished with that part today. She was very much looking forward to spending time with Matilda and learning more of these ancient ways that fascinated her so. It reminded her of her childhood days when she had had such a thirst for knowledge that she had soaked up everything in sight. She had not felt that kind of excitement in a very long time. Her companion smiled and , noticing her enthusiasm, decided to hurry along as well.

Meanwhile, at Nottingham castle, Marian fidgeted as she watched Sir Guy of Gisborne approaching.

"Marian, what are you doing here?" He made his best attempt at looking and sounding bored as he strode over, but could not help the tiny skip that his heart made at the sight of her. She was wearing the loveliest green dress that hung just low enough at the neck to allow him to peek down her blouse without being obvious. He snapped his eyes back up to her face almost instantly. He did not like to think of Marian that way.

"I'm here to kidnap you." _Ha_! Those last minute alterations to the neckline of her top would do the trick this time, she was certain. She had seen his eyes roam up and down her chest and, although she found his leer rather revolting and she hated resorting to such tactics, she was relatively sure that she would be able to command his attention for long enough this time to finally get some _useful_ information.

"I beg your pardon?"

"You heard me. I'm here to kidnap you. I wish you to accompany me on a ride and I will not take no for an answer this time." She flashed him her most perfect smile. She had been attempting to lure him away from the Sheriff's presence for weeks now, knowing that he was unlikely to give away any important details where the Sheriff might overhear. But, try as she might, she could never get him further than the castle courtyard. She refused to become discouraged, however.

"As I have told you, Marian, I am needed here. A man in my position can not simply pick up and go riding anytime he chooses. Perhaps, in a few weeks' time, I will be more available. Check back with me then." And he abruptly turned to go.

"Sir Guy, wait!" She wanted so badly to prove to Robin that she could do this.

He couldn't help but smile at the desperation in her tone. Try as she might to convince the world otherwise, Marian was not so unlike other women. Ignore them and they become putty in your hands. He wiped the smile from his lips before turning around to face her. "Yes? What is it now?" He again feigned disinterest.

"Surely you will not again try to send me away with the same tired excuses about the Sheriff expecting an important visitor? You have been saying the same for weeks now and yet I have seen no sign of anyone arriving. Nor do there appear to be any preparations underway for a reception. And, surely, if there were, my father and I would have been informed by now. We are still leading members of the Nobility, after all. Is there really such a visitor expected or are you merely trying to politely refuse my requests for your company?" She asked coyly, hoping to at least be able to pin him down on an arrival date.

"Why is that any concern of yours? My reasons are immaterial, are they not? You will be informed of anything that you need to know when and if the Sheriff deems it appropriate. Until then, you will have to accept my word."

"I..." Oh how she hated this. She allowed the slightest hint of a pout to grace her lips as she readied herself to play upon his ego. "I never get to see you anymore. That is all. You are always so busy and now you are living at the castle so I see even less of you. I just hope that the Sheriff appreciates how much he owes you."

"Maybe you would be able to see _more_ of me if you had completed your wedding vows to me rather than acting like some sort of low-born mare at the altar!" He spat. He saw her flinch and immediately regretted his words. He had been reacting more to her statement about the Sheriff appreciating his contributions than anything else.

"Of course, Guy. I have tried to apologize to you for my behavior at our wedding and to explain the reasons behind my outburst. But it was foolish of me to think that you could ever forgive me or that we could ever again be..._friends_. I won't trouble you any further." And she turned to walk away. She was actually torn between wanting him to come after her so that she could try to get more out of him, and wanting to be as far away from him as possible in case his temper flared even more.

"Marian, wait. I'm sorry. I did not mean to bring up any unpleasantness. Of course I appreciate your attempts to renew our...friendship. And I assure you, there _is_ a visitor. A very important one. That is why I am needed here. The Sheriff has been expecting him for several weeks and we have just received word that he is finally on his way."

_Finally! _"My. He must be traveling from quite a distance if it is taking so very long." She tried. "I am sorry that you have been kept waiting. A man like you must have so many important things to attend to." She threw in at the last moment to cover any curiosity in her tone.

"He is coming from London, actually." What did secrecy matter any longer? She would know where the man was from as soon as he and his party arrived in Nottingham. Just as long as she did not suspect his reasons for being here. "He is a Saracen man, actually, and he is traveling here with a rather large retinue on a peace mission. Prince John has been entertaining him for quite some time now and he wishes him to stop off in Nottingham on his way to the port before returning home."

"A peace mission? That is good news then. The sooner peace is declared, the sooner the King may return. Well, then. I shall not keep you from it any longer. I trust that we can see more of one another at some point in the near future. Good day, Sir Guy." And she smiled sweetly and forced herself walk towards the stables at a leisurely pace until she was out of his line of sight. Then she hopped on her horse and raced, as fast as she dared, into the forest. This was the biggest break they had had in quite some time, and she wanted to let Robin know of it as soon as possible.

She had actually begun to despise the work she had been doing over the past few weeks. She hated having to resort to flirting and pouting in order to be useful to her king and her people...not to mention Robin. It made her sick to her stomach at times. She knew that there were so many other things she could be doing to help. So many skills she possessed that would be useful. Why did it always seem to end up with her having to use her feminine wiles rather than her mind or her fighting skills?

But today she would not let those thoughts spoil her success. She thought over what Djaq had said earlier about the fine line that they walked and Marian knew that she had done what she'd had to do, just as she always did. And now she finally had some useful information about the Sheriff's plan. Plus, from what Guy had told her, she could tell that there was much more going on than even Robin had suspected. So she congratulated herself on a job well done as she rode on into the forest.


	10. Contact

_**A/N: **I hope no one finds this chapter too confusing. In reading it, you will, undoubtedly, notice that Djaq's thoughts are not given. That is intentional. The majority of the chapter, with the exception of the first tiny bit, is given from Will's perspective. Djaq's perspective on the same time frame and events will be explored in the very next chapter. _

_Also, there is some naughty stuff here. I don't know if it warrants an M rating or not, but I thought I should warn you. _

_BTW, this chapter picks up right where the previous one left off. So it's still the same day._

**Contact**

"Really, Marian! Why don't you just throw yourself at the man while wearing your night shift? It would be so much simpler." Robin fumed.

He had actually been incredibly pleased to see his love riding through the forest, at break-neck speed, calling his name. She looked lovely in her gorgeous green outfit with the oh-so-revealing neckline. It was only when he heard that she had just come from seeing Gisborne wearing such a thing, that he'd lost his temper.

"How dare you!" She shot back.

"You are the one who dares, Marian. You are far _too_ daring, if you ask me."

"Well then, I suppose it's a good thing that I haven't asked you. Besides, I am not here on personal matters so I do not have the time for this childish behavior. I have come to discuss our mutual interest in protecting our King." She tried to sound as confident and unruffled as she could. Though all the while her heart was hammering in her chest.

She was unnerved partly because of Robin's uncouth suggestions about her associations with Guy, and partly because she had had similar thoughts about it herself. She hated having to cheapen herself in order to gather intelligence from him, yet she knew that it was sometimes a necessity.

"Have you heard something, then? About the king?" He asked, immediately alert.

So Marian related to Robin what she had been told about the Saracen visitor and his supposed mission of peace. When she had finished, Robin looked truly alarmed.

"What is it, Robin?" She asked.

"I'm not certain. But I do know that this can be no peace mission. If Prince John had his way, there would never be peace and King Richard would stay in the Holy Land for the rest of his natural life. There is something very wrong here."

A short while later, everyone, except for John and Djaq who had yet to return from their trip into Loxley, were assembled inside the camp. They had listened intently to what Marian had learned from Gisborne, and were now discussing Robin's plans.

"I'm telling you it's the only way. And it's nothing she hasn't done _before_." Robin was saying imploringly.

"It's different now, though. Isn't it? She's gotta be extra careful. I still say no." Allan huffed.

"That's right. I say no too. You said yourself that something isn't right about this, Robin. So we should find another way." Much agreed.

"And _I_ say that this is the _only_ way. And it will be no more dangerous than anything else we've done. Besides, she won't be alone." Robin was getting irritated. He didn't mind being questioned but he hated when any of his gang tried to overrule him. Frankly, he would have expected it to be Will who objected, seeing as he was Djaq's husband. But he had remained silent thus far.

"I do not know that I agree with you that it is the only way, but I _do_ agree that she can certainly handle herself as well as any other time. And she will be better able to blend in than anyone else would be." Marian offered.

"Will, you have been very quiet." Robin said, looking at the young man.

"Why should that surprise you?" Much asked. "He's always that way. He always waits until _everyone_ else has spoken before telling us what he thinks. So now we have spoken, Will. What _do_ you think?"

"What I think is that we should wait for Djaq so that she can make this decision for herself." He said plainly, looking at all of them.

"What decision is that?" Asked Djaq as she walked through the entrance with Little John a step behind.

They all turned to look at her and Will wasn't certain if they were startled by her sudden appearance or the fact that she was wearing clothing that was decidedly more feminine than they were used to seeing on her. No one mentioned it, however and Much, of course, was the first to attempt to answer her question.

"There are Saracens coming to Nottingham and Robin wants you to dress up and go to the castle so that you can get information on why they're really here because Robin does not think that it could be a peace mission as Gisborne has told Marian. And Will thought that it might be another ransom demand like the time that Prince Malik fellow was being held by the Sheriff but thought he was a guest except that Saladin really wanted him dead anyway so there _was_ no ransom." When he paused for a much needed breath, Djaq spoke up before he could continue.

"Slow down. What are you talking about, Much? There are Saracens coming to Nottingham?" She asked.

"That's what I said. And _we_ have been discussing whether or not it would safe for you to disguise yourself as a member of their party and sneak into the castle with them. I say no, and Allan agrees with me." Much tried to explain.

"No, _you_ agreed with _me_." Allan argued.

"But Robin says that it will not be any more dangerous than any other mission you've been on so he, obviously, says yes." Much continued. "Marian says that you can handle the job so I guess that _could_ be a yes, and Will says it's your decision. What do _you_ say, John?"

John, however, barely had time to process Much's words when Djaq opened her mouth to speak.

"What does _John_ think? _Allan_ agrees with _Much_. Or maybe _Much_ agrees with _Allan_. _Robin_ says yes. _Marian_ _might_ say yes. Hmm. That is very nice of all of you. Perhaps I should go back out and come in again after you have all made your final decision and then you can simply tell me where I may go and what I may do. I would not wish to step on anyone's toes by thinking for myself." And she stood there with her hands on her hips, waiting for one of them to say something.

Will loved the way she looked in her new shift. She was beautiful and she had much more freedom of movement in it, he could tell. He was glad to see that the seamstress in Loxley had done such a nice job. He had been unsure of what to ask for when he'd ordered it, but she had assured him that she would make certain that everything was just right.

Robin had given his consent to Will using a small portion of their stashed money for the purchase, and Will had actually requested and paid for it a few weeks ago, but he had asked that his involvement be kept a secret. And since he knew that Djaq would never purchase something nice for herself, he'd asked the woman to make her something with the greatest attention to detail but to hold on to it until Djaq came in to place an order herself.

The seamstress had thought him quite the considerate husband, assuming that he did not want his wife to feel self conscious that he had noticed her changing figure. And he had found it easier to allow her to believe that than telling her that Djaq was far too independent to appreciate his assistance. But Djaq looked happy and she did not seem to suspect that he'd had a hand in it, so he was glad that it had all worked out.

"Is this something that you feel comfortable doing?" He asked her softly after a moment. He loved how determined and independent she was. She was certainly strong and capable enough to make her own decisions. He trusted her instincts and knew that if there were any reason that she shouldn't participate in this mission, either because of the baby or anything else, she would say so.

"I do not even know anything about the plan yet." She answered him with the tiniest smile, causing him to smile in return. "But if Robin thinks that this is what we should do, then I will gladly help in any way that I can. Tell me about the Saracens." She said, turning to Robin and essentially ending all further discussion over her non-participation.

Once she had been fully briefed, they all settled down to speculate over the real reason behind the visit, as well as to formulate a fail-proof plan.

"So, then, who do you think this guy is, Djaq?" Allan asked her after they had fully dissected the matter.

"How should I know? I know as much as the rest of you." She answered.

"Yeah, but he's a Saracen. Maybe you know him." He suggested.

Will saw Djaq try to stifle her laughter before answering. "Allan, do you really suppose that all Saracens know one another? Do you know every European man, woman, and child?" She asked him.

"Oh. Right. I suppose not." And he reddened slightly.

"But I do agree that this can be no peace mission. And even if this man _believes_ he is coming here in order to secure peace, like Prince Malik did, I do not believe that the Sheriff would bother with a ransom demand again. Not after the disastrous outcome last time. So this is something completely different. And even if we suppose that this Saracen believes he is here to argue for peace, which we cannot be sure of, that still does not explain the Sheriff's motivation in entertaining him." Djaq said.

"Right. That's what we must uncover. _Why_ he is coming as well as how this benefits Prince John and the Sheriff. Only then will we understand the danger posed to the King." Robin agreed.

After the gang had spent the next two weeks trying to go on with their normal routine but anxiously anticipating the arrival of this mysterious Saracen, Allan finally got word from one of his kitchen sources at the castle that there was to be a lavish feast and reception for an important visitor in two days' time. Marian and her father were also notified and told that their attendance was mandatory.

The plan was for Djaq and Allan to sneak into the castle on the day of the party in order to rifle through the belongings of the Saracen servants. They were to secure some garments suitable for Djaq and Robin to wear to the party later that same evening and, hopefully, blend in enough to gather information on who this man was and what business he had there. But, at the last minute, Robin had pulled Will aside and asked him to take Allan's place.

"Uh, yeah, sure. But why? Allan is probably better at sneaking in and out of the castle than I am." Will had argued.

He was a bit nervous over spending such a large chunk of time alone with Djaq. He had not done so since the day of their wedding months earlier, when they had walked to and from Marian's house together, and he was not sure if he was ready to face her without the distraction of having other people around. What if he blew it by saying or doing something that gave away the depth of his feelings? What if he made her so uncomfortable that she wanted to leave him again? He knew he couldn't bear that.

"I just think this would be best. So can I count on you?" Robin asked.

"Yeah. Okay." And that was that.

So on the designated day, they all ducked into a nearby alleyway in order to catch a glimpse of the retinue arriving at the gates of the castle. They were struck by the number of horses and carts they saw, all loaded well over capacity with furniture, trunks, and all manner of things. It had been decided that it would be best for Will and Djaq to sneak in with the visiting party because it would allow them to take advantage of the chaos that all of the movement and unloading would create. So, after one final run through of the plan and where to meet the others afterward, the two of them slipped in with the throng of people who were passing through the gate.

A short time later, they were diligently searching up and down hallways, looking for the appropriate wing of rooms. Marian had given them a fairly good idea of which part of the castle to search. Which turned out to be quite helpful considering that the visiting party was so large they had to be given an entire wing of the castle.

"_Someone's coming_!" Djaq whispered urgently and Will saw her eyes dart up and down the long corridor, hoping to find somewhere to hide.

"Here!" He said, grabbing her carefully and walking her into a small alcove behind an empty bookcase. It stood out from the wall just enough to allow them to squeeze back there.

The space was extremely narrow and not exactly secure, but it was well hidden. Will flattened her against the back wall as much as possible and tried to shield her body with his own. He felt relatively certain that, as long as they were very quiet, they would remain undetected. Someone would have to be looking for them in this exact spot in order to find them there.

It wasn't the sort of niche you could just stumble upon accidentally and Will had only discovered it because he had long since developed the habit of scanning a room for all exit points and any possible hiding places the moment he entered. It was part of the way in which they lived. You never knew when a hasty retreat or a bit of camouflage might be in order.

He strained his ears and listened intently but he couldn't hear anything. He didn't doubt that she had, though, as she and Robin were often the ones among them to hear guards approaching or something amiss before anyone else did. Probably something to do with their days spent as soldiers, he guessed. But he now began to think that whatever or whomever she had heard had moved on and posed no immediate threat to them.

Still, he decided to wait a moment or two more before declaring the coast clear. He couldn't take any chances with her safety nor the safety of their child. That thought flitted through his mind at the exact moment that she shifted her weight and brushed softly against him, causing him to realize, for the first time, how tantalizingly close she was. He was facing her and their bodies were wedged into the corner rather snuggly.

Up until that moment, he had only been thinking of the danger, but his desire to protect his little family coupled with his close proximity to her warm and soft body made something almost uncontrollable rise up in him. Without stopping to think about their bizarre location, the fact that they had a job to complete, or the current state of their relationship, Will leaned his body into hers more fully. She didn't seem to take any offense, but he thought that perhaps the tight quarters may have masked his intentions. After all, he couldn't exactly move very far _away_ from her, but, still, he didn't have to press _against_ her so much either.

The warning voice in his head told him that he had no _right_ to be that close to her. That he was crossing the very boundaries that she had so firmly set in place for them. That she had made it plainly understood that she did not want a physical relationship with him. But he told that voice to mind its own business as he took in her intoxicating scent and the sound of her breathing. He could feel her heart beating wildly in her chest and it thrilled him...or was it _his_ heart? They were so close that he couldn't tell anymore.

All he knew was that she was _his_. No matter what he told himself day after day or how hard he tried to stay away from her, she _belonged _to him...on some primal level. Maybe it was wrong to think of her that way, but, at that moment, he couldn't see how it could be. She was his wife and the mother of his child. She had placed her seal upon his heart ages ago and she had staked her claim to his soul during their one night of passion and every day and night since. Every part of him ached for her and all of the pent up tension of the past few months was furiously trying to find its release.

He wanted so badly to wrap his arms around her and hold her tightly, but, due to the space constraints, his movements were hindered. Besides, he had to keep one hand on his ax in order to keep from injuring her while they were so close. So he settled for leaning his head down and barely kissing her hair. The scent of lavender filled his nostrils as he closed his eyes and breathed in deeply.

Still, she did not object.

So he slowly lifted his free hand as much as he could manage given the lack of room and, without making a sound, he chanced running his palm over her hip and up her waist. He felt an incredible rush of excitement pass through him at this decidedly intimate contact. He had spent _so_ much time over the past few months forcing himself to stay away from her. To not look at her. Trying so hard not to imagine being with her.

It was all maddening and, as it turned out, it was all for nothing. Because here he was, completely unable to control the animal instincts that told him that _here_ was where he belonged. _With_ _her_. That her body, her delicate curves and the soft cushion of her flesh in all the right places seemed to exist solely to accommodate the firmness of his own masculine form.

Every part of him was willing itself to inch ever closer to her until, finally, there was no space between them at all. It was as if his body was drawn to her of its own accord, as if it recognized her as its missing piece...its home...where it had once been warm and safe and sheltered. He needed her at that moment more than he could bear. His whole body was enveloped in such an exquisite state of pleasure-pain that it left him dizzy and numbed his mind. All thoughts of danger and propriety were forgotten. The only thing he could focus on was_ her_.

His every instinct bid him to take her...to have her...to show her how much he adored her, even if only this one time. Even if she changed her mind again afterwards, like she had before, he thought that he could take that pain if it meant tasting her lips and being a part of her body. He leaned his head to her ear and whispered her name in a raspy, breathy voice.

"_Djaq_...."

He could swear that he felt her press against him the littlest bit. Encouraged by this, he lifted his hand from her waist and ran it up between their bodies and under the hem of her shirt. He brought it to rest on her now exposed belly, that devilish sense of ownership renewing itself as he lovingly stroked the place where his son or daughter lay. Then he leaned his mouth against her ear once more and gently nipped at her earlobe, causing her to shudder slightly against him. He slid his palm further beneath her shirt and up her torso, cupping her breast and slowly running his rough thumb back and forth over her hardening nipple.

"_Djaq_..." He breathed, sucking on the delicate flesh of her neck. "I can't stay away from you. It's killing me." He thought he heard her mewl softly. "Be with me. Please." He murmured against her neck as he lowered his hips just enough to grind them gently into hers, sending a jolt of pleasure through his body.

"I'm your husband...I would never hurt you, I promise...I just _need_ you...I love you so much...Be with me just this once. _Please?_" He whispered through soft, licking kisses to her neck as he dropped his hand from beneath her shirt and let it dip down over her trousers and between her thighs where he gently squeezed.

"_Will_," she sighed against his chest, and the sound of his name on her lips in that softly alluring voice made his sense of urgency even greater. He leaned away from her just enough to allow him to bend his head and see her face. She had her eyes closed and was biting her lower lip. She was flushed and her breathing was ragged. And she was more beautiful than he had ever seen her. Was that even possible? How did she manage to grow lovelier every time he looked at her?

He started to lean down to kiss her lips when, suddenly, her eyes flew open and a look of pure horror and confusion passed over her face, bringing him sharply back to himself. It was then that he realized that he'd had her pinned between himself and the wall and he immediately released her, feeling horribly guilty over his animalistic behavior.

He ran a nervous hand through his hair, causing his elbow to knock against the bookcase and make a loud clatter. "I'm so sorry." He tried weakly, although he knew that a pathetic apology would never be enough to undo what he had done. He had broken her trust in the worst possible way. He had been so caught up in his own desires that he'd convinced himself that she'd wanted him to proceed. When he had thought that she was responding to his touch and his words, she was clearly trying to reel him in...to get him to get a hold of himself. Shame flooded him.

"It's alright. Do not worry about it. But we should move now. Someone may have heard." She panted, trying to catch her breath as they slipped out from their hiding place.

He had no idea what she must be thinking, but he did not think that she was angry. At least she did not seem so to him, although he was clearly _not_ the best at interpreting her behavior. How could she stand to remain civil with him after what he had just tried to do to her?

But she was definitely very upset and, if he were not mistaken, she was frightened. Frightened of _him_. She was strong and brave and he had hardly ever seen her afraid of anything. To know that he was the one who sparked that fear in her made him sick.

He hated himself at that moment. How had things ever gotten to that point? He was _not_ that type of man! He wasn't! He would _never_ hurt the woman he loved. He would never hurt _any_ woman, but _especially_ not her. She meant the world to him and he loved and respected her. How could he have forced his urges onto her that way? What had come over him?

And he had _definitely_ frightened her..._badly_ from the way that she looked when he chanced a sideways glance in her direction as they made their way down the hall and on to the next set of rooms. The color had drained from her face now and she was shaky on her feet. He did not even trust himself to reach out for her arm in order to help steady her.

He knew then that he could simply not allow himself to be alone with her again. All of his attempts at distracting himself over the past several weeks and months were completely useless if one afternoon in a dark corner with her could turn him into an animal.

He knew that being married to her should not automatically give him unlimited rights to her body. He told himself that he would _never_ have forced himself upon her. He just couldn't believe that he would. It was so out of sync with the way that he felt for her. But, he also knew that his feelings for her were so strong that they often overrode all rational thought, and he was determined that he would never again put her in the position of having to fear him or his advances.

"I'm alright." She said, obviously noticing the worried way he kept glancing at her as they quietly made their way over to the next corridor. "It was just that I was not expecting--"

"Let's finish up and get the clothes first before someone catches us. Okay? Then we'll figure everything out once we're safely out of here." He cut her off. She nodded as they moved onto separate hallways to continue searching the rooms.

He knew what she wanted to say.

She would remind him of their agreement. _That_, though, he thought that he could face. He could take her anger and disappointment. He deserved it. But he could not stand to have her try, once again, to be his friend. She was trying so hard with him, he knew. And she seemed perfectly willing to continue. She simply wouldn't face the fact that he was hopeless when it came to being her friend.

There was a time when he would have given anything to have her friendship again after the difficulties that arose between them immediately following their encounter in the cave. He'd secretly wanted more, of course, but he would have settled for having her treat him as a friend. Instead of being distant with him the way that she had been.

But now, distance from her almost seemed like a blessing. Because she just didn't get it. It wasn't her fault. Not at all. She wanted to forge a happy future with him for the sake of their child. He could not blame her for that. He wanted that too. And he kept hoping that he would be able to bind his feelings for her up in such a way that made them bearable. That made him the kind of husband she wanted. But he now knew that it was never going to work. And he felt terrible about it. About failing her so miserably when she was trying _so_ hard.

And to have her try to sweep his latest offense aside as just one more bump in the road of adjustments they had to face, to have her look at him with kindness and sympathy, with him knowing all the while that he would never be able to give her what she wanted from him, was more than he could stand. He had to stop pretending that things were ever going to change between them. If his behavior with her today had shown him anything, it was that they never would.

But, more than that, he had to make _her_ stop pretending. She had to face the fact that his feelings for her were not going away, no matter how many times she tried to pretend that they could be just friends. No matter how many times she invited him on walks or looked at him with understanding. It would never make any difference. He just had to stay away from her. He could not be trusted otherwise.

Finally, after nearly another hour had passed, she was the one who actually found what they were looking for, and, when she did, she made her way over to the room that he had been searching and showed him what she found. They stuffed the garments into a sack that he had carried folded up and tucked into his belt and they started to carefully make their way out of the castle.

When they reached the side of the castle where Much and John were waiting, Will signaled to John that their mission had been successful and he watched as the two men ran towards the forest while he and Djaq did the same in another direction.

When they got deep enough into the forest where Will thought they were safe, he stopped and turned to her.

"You can make it back from here, right?" He asked, handing her the sack of clothing.

"What?"

"To the camp. You can make it back on your own from here?" He knew that she could. She always took care of herself. He hated leaving her on her own, but knew that it was better than making the long walk back alone together.

"Of course, but--"

"Alright then." And he turned to go off in another direction. Anywhere but there.

"Where are _you_ going? I was hoping that we could go somewhere and talk in private after we've seen Robin." She said, with a rather confused look.

"There's no need. There's nothing you can say to me that I haven't already said to myself, Djaq. You don't deserve this. You've made it clear what you want and I had no right to complicate things." He was easing himself away from where she stood, hoping that she would just let him go. Maybe they didn't have to have a big discussion about it.

"_Complicate_ things? What is the matter with you, Will?"

Should he just tell her the truth? _Well, Djaq, you want to know what's the matter with me? I obviously can't be near you without turning into an animal. _That_ should be clear enough after what happened in the castle._

"I'm sure you'll agree it's best if we're not alone together." Is what he actually said. And he turned again to go.

"What? No I do _not_ agree! Why would you say that? I do not understand. Back at the castle--"

"Look, I know you don't understand." What could he say? What excuse could he give her for his behavior back there? How could he possibly explain the things that had been going through his mind at the time? "I can only _imagine_ what you must be thinking. What happened at the castle was a terrible mistake and I'm very sorry. Sorrier than you could know. But it will _never_ happen again. You have my word, Djaq."

"I don't want your word and I don't need you to be sorry!" She shouted at him. "I need you to tell me what the hell is wrong with you. Why are you acting this way? What has gotten into you? You are never around. You are always gone. I have been trying to spend time with you for weeks now. I tried to be patient. I thought that you needed time to adjust to this new relationship. But then today, when we are finally alone together, you act like _this_? Oh no, Will Scarlett. You have absolutely _no_ _idea_ what I am thinking." She spat.

"I know. And you have every right to be angry with me." He actually preferred her anger to her attempts to reason things out between them. Finally she was beginning to see.

"_Angry_? Anger does not begin to cover it." She said with a look and a tone that bordered on contempt.

He could not blame her. He could not even ask for her forgiveness. He had violated her sacred trust and, what was worse, standing here with her and seeing the way that her face flushed and her chest heaved as she shouted at him only made him want her more. He had to get away from her. He didn't trust himself to walk all the way back to camp with her.

"Djaq, please. Let me go. I don't want to do anything to hurt you. I can't _do_ this anymore. I can't keep pretending with you. Not when I know that no amount of time or adjustment is going to change the way I feel. I...I can't be the kind of husband you want me to be. I can't be what you expect of me. I just can't. Believe me, I've tried. You'll never know how hard. But I just can't do it."

"This does not make sense to me. What you are saying can not be right. Please don't do this to me, Will. Is it really so difficult to be with me? I...I do not...we...we did it _before_. What has changed?" She was practically pleading with him now, looking up at him with those beautiful big brown eyes and it broke his heart.

She still wanted to be his friend! She wanted things to be the way they were before. How could it be so easy for her? How was she able to go back to a friendly existence with him after what they had done together in the cave? After the child they had created? After all they had shared? Why could she not understand how hard this was for him?

"But it's _different_ now! Don't you _see_ that? At least for _me_ it is. Everything's changed between us. I can't go back now. No matter how hard I try. I just can't. I know that's not what you want to hear. I'm sorry, Djaq." And with that, he turned and walked away from her, trying his best to erase her look of hurt and confusion from his mind.

He did not return to their camp until much later that night. He just couldn't face her. So he'd busied himself with his carving project until long after he knew she would be asleep. It was cowardly, he knew. He should have returned and done his part to assist with Robin's plan. Surely the rest of the gang would have wondered where he was.

It was unfair of him to leave Djaq to try to explain his absence to them. He wasn't even sure what she could have told them. She was far too tactful and private a person to reveal to them how he had treated her earlier, but they must have pressed her for some reason that Will would stay away. He should've been man enough to come back and face everyone. To meet his responsibilities.

But he hadn't. So as he finally made his way back through the dark forest, he scolded himself for letting Robin and the others down. He could tell, as he peered up at the moon, that it was time for Allan's shift on watch, and he was wondering what questions his friend would have for him tonight.

But more than that, he was thinking about how he would allow himself the small luxury of glancing down at Djaq's sleeping form as he passed her bunk upon entering camp. He had always been struck by the look on her face when she slept. She lost the hardness that she always wore like a suit of armor, making her look like an innocent child, without a care in the world. Something he had the sneaking suspicion she had never really been...even when she _was_ a child.

But as he neared the camp and started to reach for the lever to open the hatch, he heard a harsh voice from above him.

"Just so you know, she's _not_ in there. She's inside the castle." The voice spat bitterly.

With those words, his heart seemed to stop and his blood ran cold as he whipped around just as Allan soundlessly jumped from his perch in the trees overhead.


	11. Surprises

_**A/N:** And now here is Djaq's POV of the same time frame. The conversation between Djaq and any Saracens in this chapter are written (obviously) in English, but are to be understood as having been spoken in Arabic. I hope this does not cause any confusion, particularly because the majority of the chapter is written in italics (being a flashback) and so the Arabic portions are emboldened as well as italicized. Now that I've confused you, here we go:_

**Surprises**

As Djaq sat alone, behind the locked door, within a dark room at Nottingham Castle, she thought over the events that had brought her here. It had begun about two weeks earlier, when Marian had finally gotten Gisborne to reveal some information about the Sheriff's expected visitor.

_John and Djaq had been walking through the forest on their way back from Loxley, with Djaq feeling somewhat exhausted, but pleasantly so. It felt good to tire herself out doing something she enjoyed like making deliveries to the poor and exchanging knowledge with the wise women of the villages. She was also much more comfortable than she had been in several weeks, thanks to her new and much better-fitting shift. _

_She had been meaning to get some clothes that were more appropriate for her new figure for a while now. But when she had stopped in to visit the seamstress that afternoon in order to request that something simple be made for her, she was surprised to find that there was a higher-quality garment in her size already available. It really was quite nice and far better than anything she would have purchased for herself._

_The seamstress explained that it had been ordered by a pregnant Noblewoman who had since changed her mind about it, enabling her to offer it to Djaq instead. Djaq had insisted that she be allowed to pay for it, considering how expensive cloth was, not to mention the time it must have taken to do all of the stitching and pleats. But the woman had refused her money, saying that the original client had already paid for it. So after some friendly arguing back and forth, Djaq was forced to reluctantly give in._

_She had to marvel at her luck, though. It really seemed almost tailor made for her. It was nearly the same color as the top she usually wore, which was ideal for camouflage while in the forest, only this one was significantly longer and much looser with pleating around the chest and stomach area that she could continue to grow into. It even had an extra layer of material sewn in to serve as lining along the front, which made her tight-fitting and very uncomfortable bodice rather less necessary. _

_Her mind was drawn back to the conversation she had been having with John._

"_Yes. That Matilda is quite a character. Some of the things that come out of her mouth would make a sailor blush." He said with a grin and a shake of his head as they made their way home together at a nice, leisurely pace._

"_It is true that she has a bit of a foul tongue." Djaq said, laughing. "But she does seem to know quite a bit about many different things." _

"_Aye. Believe it or not, she has mellowed since her younger days." He told her, meeting her skeptical look with a smirk and a nod._

"_You mean that she was more outspoken than she is now? I cannot believe that is even _possible_!" And she continued to laugh._

_They chatted amiably as they neared the camp but became immediately silent once they heard the very heated discussion that was taking place within._

_Apparently, the gang had been discussing something to do with her going on a dangerous mission and whether or not she could still handle herself. At first she thought that they could be discussing Marian, but then Djaq heard Marian's own voice added to the argument and knew that the "_she_" they kept referring to could only be herself._

_She was about to storm in angrily and inform them that she was perfectly capable of making her own decisions when she heard the steady and sensible voice of her husband tell them all just that. She was relieved and touched to hear that he had faith in her ability to decide for herself. He had always treated her as an equal and she was pleased to find that at least _that_ aspect of their relationship had not changed._

_So she'd entered, asked what all the fuss was about, and was promptly given the very long version by the ever-helpful Much. Once she had heard and processed this newest piece of information, however, she really did not know what to think. She was surprised to find out that the visitor, whom they had all been speculating over for so many weeks now, was a Saracen, and he was bringing an entire retinue of his own people with him. So Robin wanted her to slip into the castle and gather as much information as possible about him and his plans._

_She found that her mind was swirling with all sorts of conflicting thoughts. On the one hand, there was no possible scenario in which this visit was good news. Prince John and the Sheriff were two of the most corrupt and downright evil men who had ever lived and there was no way that they would make peace with her people unless it meant the means to an early demise for King Richard. So it was very likely that Robin was correct and that his king was in danger one way or another. _

_But on the other hand, she found herself becoming incredibly curious about this strange traveler. And she was growing rather excited over the prospect of seeing and interacting with people from her part of the world again. Although, as she knew very well, the term Holy Land was actually used to cover a rather large expanse of land. Despite the way that the English bandied it about as the distance of a city or two. So she was well aware that these people might not even be from _her_ part of the Holy Land._

_Still, it had been so long since she had heard her own language spoken aloud by anyone other than herself. And, even though she was certain that, as a spy, she would have the opportunity to exchange no information of any significance to her, she still found herself looking forward to it. And who knew? These people could end up being from Acre. It was a long shot, but it would be such a blessing to hear some news of home. Of the few people she had left there. So she was somewhat torn between excitement and trepidation and the next few weeks of waiting did nothing to lessen those feelings. _

_Robin's plan had been for Djaq and Allan to sneak into the castle on the day of the arrival in order to rifle through the belongings of the Saracen servants. But at some point, and she could never seem to work out how or when, the plans changed from being Allan and Djaq to Will and Djaq, which suited her just fine. Better than fine, actually. _

_She was overjoyed to finally have some time alone with Will. She was hopeful that they could break down some of the walls that had been standing between them for so long now. That maybe just being on a mission together, alone, like they always used to enjoy, would be enough to at least make a start at repairing what was so clearly broken._

_On the designated day, she and Will had separated from the rest of gang and placed themselves amidst the throng of visitors and staff near the castle gate. At that point, she had been thinking of nothing more than getting in and out without drawing any unnecessary attention. They were supposed to find the visitors' quarters and secure disguises for her and Robin to use while spying at the party later that evening._

_They were able to slip into the castle with relatively little trouble. There was so much activity surrounding the guests that two extra people were hardly noticed. The difficult part proved to be figuring out where in the castle the servants' attire would to be kept. Marian had given them a rough idea of the wing which had been set aside for the Sheriff's guest and his people, but it was a rather large wing, as they were a rather large retinue, and there were several corridors and rooms that all looked pretty much the same to them._

_Luckily for them, most of the Sheriff's household staff and guards were needed in the Great Hall as the Sheriff welcomed this very important visitor. So they were almost completely free to roam up and down the corridors searching for what they needed. Just as they were doing a sweep of the third identical-looking hallway, Djaq heard someone approaching. Before she'd even had time to think, Will had placed his hands on her hips and maneuvered her into a corner behind some sort of bookshelf. _

_Although their hiding spot was small, she was not uncomfortable in the least. Will was so close to her that she could smell him. She inhaled deeply and breathed in his scent. Will... He smelled like he always did. Like wood and metal and sweat. Like the forest and well-worn clothes. It was a scent that had become as familiar to her nose as any spice back home had ever been, and her mind associated it with strength, masculinity, and comfort. She knew that she should be more bothered about the dangerous position they were in and the fact that they were still no closer to getting what they had come for, but she just couldn't seem to find it within herself to care._

_Her breasts were _just_ brushing against his chest and she could feel that now all too familiar warmth growing in her lower region. The same thing she always felt when she was near him or even _thought_ about him lately. He was carefully listening to make sure that he danger had passed, she could tell, and was covering her body almost completely with his own just in case they happened to be discovered. It was such a delicious position to be in. With him. That close. With no one around. _

_She decided to chance closer contact, so she pressed her breasts up against him even more and was thrilled when he pushed back. She didn't even know if he realized he'd done it, as he was always such a gentleman with her. Even when they'd made love, he had looked to her for permission to continue every step of the way. It had meant so much to her at the time. But now, finally being near him and seeing the way that he protected her was making her want nothing so much as to have him grab her and rip off her clothing and have her right there._

_It was ridiculous, of course, for more than one reason. First, because given the size of the space they were in, he would never be able to tear her clothes off or do much of anything else. Even if he'd wanted to. But, she was also struck with the strangeness of having his protectiveness make such an impact on her. She hated to be looked after. Absolutely _hated_ it. She always had, even as a child. But something about this felt so right. _

_She could feel his arm and chest muscles tense and was filled with a desire to run her hands all over them. Of course, there was that darn space problem again. There wasn't even enough room to look up at him properly. Then, suddenly she felt his lips lightly brush over the top of her head, and just as she was trying to decide whether or not the contact had been deliberate, she felt his hand slide carefully up her waist. Will..._

_Her heart was pounding and she had to use every ounce of willpower she had just to keep quiet. Partly because she knew that any sound could draw danger their direction, but mostly because she feared breaking the spell that he seemed to be under. He seemed oblivious to time and place and she was afraid that any sound she made would shake him out of this trance and remind him that this was not the best setting for what they were about to do. Or what she _hoped_ they were about to do. Will..._

_He kept pressing more firmly against her until they were almost one person. And then he leaned down and whispered her name and the sound made her melt inside. She wished that they were out in the forest amongst the trees, with all the space required for such activities. She wanted to be able to lift her arms up around his neck and entangle her fingers in his hair and pull him down to kiss her. She wanted to cry out his name. She needed desperately to wrap her legs around his waist. But all she could manage was rubbing her body against his just the tiniest bit more. There really wasn't any space left between them. Will..._

_And then everything went gloriously fuzzy. His hand was under her shirt and she was grateful that this new shift hung so loosely over her, allowing him complete access. Oh it was heaven being so close to him again. After all of the waiting and wanting and hoping, here they were and he was touching her bare skin and kissing her neck and whispering sweet mutterings against her skin, the meaning of which were _completely_ lost against her neck, but still sounded absolutely beautiful to her ears. And when he rolled himself against her hips, she almost cried out. And then...he touched her _there_ and she lost all control over herself. "Will!"_

_She had meant to be quiet, she really did. She knew that they were in a dangerous position and she really shouldn't make a sound. Oh but it was so difficult. So she bit down on her lip to keep herself from crying out as he touched her, making her pant against his chest. Finally..._finally_._

_And then she felt it._

_And the whole world seemed to stop._

_She did not know why she was momentarily surprised. She knew, somewhere deep down, that she should have expected it at some point. But she hadn't. She had been trying for so long to ignore anything to do with it. She just didn't want to face it. So she'd blocked it out as best she could. The same way that she had always handled her grief or fear or anything else that her practical mind was unable to control. _

_But suddenly everything made sense. The nightmares, the denial, the way she'd refused to acknowledge that her pregnancy was anything more than a temporary ailment. Some female illness. Something that would be gone in a few months' time, leaving her free to resume her life as she'd left it. _Acondition_ she'd called it. _

_But it was so much more than that. It was a child. A living thing. She had been so terribly afraid of thinking of it in those terms because she felt certain that she would make a horrible mother. She wasn't sweet or nurturing. She didn't have a maternal instinct in her entire body. She was hard and jaded and she had no patience for neediness or weakness. _

_How could she ever meet the challenges of motherhood? _Motherhood_. There was a novel concept. It had really never occurred to her. She had never thought she'd be facing this. She hadn't known her own mother and she was relatively sure that she would have absolutely no idea how to love or care for a baby. So she'd tried hard to put it out of her mind for as long as she possibly could. _

_But she could no longer deny the reality. The baby had moved inside of her. _Her _baby_. Will's _baby_. _Their_ _baby had stirred for the first time and she had felt it, and the feelings that suddenly flooded through her were all so new and terribly confusing. _

_And it shocked her so badly that she must have started because suddenly Will backed into the bookcase, causing a rather loud noise to echo up and down the corridor. So they were both shaken out of their little cocoon of passion and desire and they pulled themselves apart and forced themselves to move on before they were discovered. _

_Will apologized to her for having caused such a loud disturbance, but she told him not to worry. And she knew that there would be plenty of time to resume where they'd left off. They just had to complete their task here and then she would accompany Robin back this evening for the feast. And then it was back to the forest where she and her husband could have the rest of the night all to themselves. _

_Maybe they could slip away to a secluded spot and spend the entire night in each other's arms. She would tell him about their child's movement and maybe even confide some of her fears to him. And they could finally give themselves to each other. Oh, the hours until then would be agony for her, though. And, she guessed, by the fervor with which he had kissed and touched her, for him as well. But she could wait. Now that she knew he wanted her and that everything was going to be okay, she could wait just a few hours more._

_As they made their way down the hall, she was still a little breathless from their encounter, as well as from the shock of the baby's movement and the realizations it brought. Will, she noticed, was looking at her worriedly. _

"_I'm alright." She told him reassuringly. Certainly he must be wondering what on earth had come over her back there...why she had become momentarily frightened. She did not want to worry him needlessly. "It was just that I was not expecting--"_

"_Let's finish up and get the clothes first before someone catches us. Okay? Then we'll figure everything out once we're safely out of here." She nodded to him. He was right, of course. They must be sensible. There would be plenty of time for talking later...not to mention time for other things._

_So they had located the servants' trunks at last, collected the garments they needed, and started to make their way out of the castle. As they made their way down hallways and stairwells, inching ever closer to the ground level, the faint scent of spices filled the air. And she began to hear the muffled humming of people speaking Arabic. _Arabic_! Oh the beauty of that sound filled her ears! _

_On they went until they managed to slip outside the castle walls. They met up with Much and John and then they'd all run off into the forest. John and Much in one direction, and Will and Djaq in another. Robin and Allan were in another part of the castle and would meet them back at camp._

_Djaq's head was spinning from all of the excitement. Her passionate encounter with Will, her anticipation of all of the things they would do with each other later, the very conflicting emotions she was experiencing over her baby, and now the added feelings of longing that had been invoked when she had smelled the spices from her home and heard the melodic tinkling of her own language. _

_She looked over at Will several times as they ran through the forest, and could not tell what was going through his mind. He looked troubled, but every time she tried to reach out for his hand or softly speak to him, he seemed just beyond her reach. Was it merely a case of him wanting to hurry up and make it back to Robin so that they might be able to steal a few moments of privacy before she had to leave for the castle again? Or was it something else? Had she somehow upset or disappointed him? _

_But just as she was about to ask him if he was alright, he stopped abruptly, causing her to do the same. She wondered if he'd seen or heard something. But instead of taking cover, he handed her the sack of clothes and, without meeting her eyes, asked, "You can make it back from here, right?" _

"_What?" She had no idea what he was talking about._

"_To the camp. You can make it back on your own from here?" He'd repeated._

"_Of course, but--"_

"_Alright then." And then he'd simply turned away and started walking in the opposite direction of the camp! _

"_Where are you going? I was hoping that we could go somewhere and talk in private after we've seen Robin." She called. He turned around to face her again but did not move any closer to her. She was stunned by this new behavior. _

"_There's no need. There's nothing you can say to me that I haven't already said to myself, Djaq. You don't deserve this. You've made it clear what you want and I had no right to complicate things." He responded, again without meeting her eyes._

"Complicate_ things? What is the matter with you, Will?" She could feel herself starting to tremble. Something was very very wrong here. _

"_I'm sure you'll agree it's best if we're not alone together." He replied. Her whole world crumbled around her. Oh, in the name of Allah, what was he saying? How could he do this? Everything had felt so right between them earlier. At least it had to _her_. _

"_What? No I do _not_ agree! Why would you say that? I do not understand. Back at the castle--"_

"_Look, I know you don't understand." He cut her off . "I can only imagine what you must be thinking. What happened at the castle was a terrible mistake and I'm very sorry. Sorrier than you could know. But it will _never_ happen again. You have my word, Djaq." And he looked more unhappy and solemn than she had ever seen him before. But it only made her furious. How _dare_ he do this to her? Humiliate her in this way? How could he touch her like that and make her feel those things and then call it a _mistake_? _

"_I don't want your word and I don't need you to be sorry!" She shouted at him. "I need you to tell me what the hell is wrong with you. Why are you acting this way? What has gotten into you? You are _never_ around. You are _always_ gone. I have been trying to spend time with you for _weeks_ now. I tried to be patient. I thought that you needed time to adjust to this new relationship. But then today, when we are finally alone together, you act like _this_? Oh no, Will Scarlett. You have absolutely _no idea_ what I am thinking." She felt the lump in her throat and knew that tears would not be far behind. She was hurt and humiliated and she knew that she should leave now. Run back to camp on her own before she made an enormous fool of herself. Even more than she already had._

"_I know. And you have every right to be angry with me." He said quietly, looking at the ground. _

"Angry_? Anger does not begin to cover it." She was trying so hard to stay in control. But she wanted so badly to cry. Why didn't he want her? What had she done? _

"_Djaq, please. Let me go. I don't want to do anything to hurt you. I can't do this anymore. I can't keep pretending with you. Not when I know that no amount of time or adjustment is going to change the way I feel. I...I can't be the kind of husband you want me to be. I can't be what you expect of me. I just can't. Believe me, I've tried. You'll never know how hard. But I just can't do it."_

_Pretending? _Pretending_? She wanted to scream. Was he saying what it sounded like? That he had tried his best to love her but he couldn't? So that was it then, she had been right about him for months now. She had certainly suspected as much, but a small part of her had refused to believe it. She had needed so badly to believe that he would come around at some point. But now he had finally drawn up the courage to say the words. _

_But did that mean that he couldn't bring himself to be intimate with her either? What kind of man does not wish to sleep with a woman when she practically throws herself at him? A holy man. A married man. A man that prefers the company of other men. But Will was none of those things. Well he was a _married_ man, but he was married to _her_! So what was the problem? _

"_This does not make sense to me. What you are saying can not be right. Please don't do this to me, Will. Is it really so difficult to be with me? I...I do not...we...we did it _before_. What has changed?" He'd had no trouble sleeping with her in the cave, before they were even married. Why not now? _

_She despised the pleading tone that her voice had taken on. She knew that she should walk away, or run, or punch him, or _something_! She had never behaved this way in her life! Even through the worst circumstances imaginable, she had never allowed herself to be a victim. But she just couldn't understand. Something about what he was saying was just not right. He had wanted her back there at the castle. She knew he did. So what was this all about?_

"_But it's _different_ now!" He said, practically pleading as well. "Don't you _see_ that? At least for me it is. Everything's changed between us. I can't go back now. No matter how hard I try. I just can't. I know that's not what you want to hear. I'm sorry, Djaq." And before she could say another word, before she could cry, or beg, or even slap his face, he was gone. He'd run off as fast as his long legs would carry him._

_She just stood there, finally allowing the tears to stream down her cheeks. She realized that her hand had automatically gone to the hilt of her sword, just as it probably always did when she felt threatened. What had happened here? That man had stolen her heart, her virtue, ruined her future, and now he had taken her last shred of dignity as well! _

_But she took a very deep breath, squeezed her eyelids shut in order to stem the flow of tears, and reminded herself that her heart and virtue were freely given to him. He had not asked for them. And he could not be held any more responsible for her changed future than she was. But what of her dignity? What was his intention there?_

_Was this his way of paying her back for the way she had treated him after their first encounter? No. Her head told her otherwise. Will Scarlett was not that type of man. Besides, she had seen the look on his face and it was not one of vengeance. He had worn the look of a broken and sorrowful man. Someone who was tormented over something. But what? _

_For all of these months she had thought that she'd understood him. She had thought that he was simply getting used to the idea of marriage and a baby. Of the changes that he would have to make. But she now saw that she had been so preoccupied in trying everything within her power to deny the realities of her pregnancy and what it really meant for _her_ future, that she had not really been paying close enough attention to everything around her. And her head, that part of herself which she had always relied upon, was now telling her that she was as much to blame for what was happening between them as he was. Possibly more._

_She knew that she had to get away from him. She had to get some space and perspective so that she could piece this whole thing together and uncover the truth of what was really going on. But how? Their lives left little room for privacy. _

_At that moment she had to get to camp and prepare for her mission with Robin, but after that she was going to find a quiet place to think. About Will, about her, and about their baby. She felt as if the clouds were finally lifting from her mind, enabling her to see clearly for the first time in months. She was a sensible woman, at least she always _had_ been, and she would sort this out. She had to. There was far too much at stake not to._

_So she wiped the tear streaks from her face, took another deep breath, and then quickly walked the rest of the way back to camp where she knew that the others would be waiting for her. Well, for her and Will, but she had the feeling that Will would not make an appearance anytime soon. She forced her thoughts away from anything to do with him for the moment, however, and readied herself for her role in Robin's plan. She was going to need all of her wits about her in order to keep herself and her baby safe while standing in a room full of Sheriff's guards, not to mention the Sheriff himself._

_When she arrived at the camp, everyone except for Will was already there. Allan had procured a cart for them to use to get back through the castle gate, and he and Much were already half dressed in guards' uniforms._

"_What happened? John said you should have been right behind them. Did you run into trouble? Where's Will?" Robin asked, glancing behind her._

"_I do not know where he is, but he's fine. There was no trouble. I am certain that no one even suspected we were there. It would probably be best, though, if we do what we have to do without Will tonight." She answered vaguely but with firmness, hoping to stop any further questions. _

_She knew that would probably not be enough to satisfy their leader, but she had no idea how she could possibly explain. And she had no desire to. But, to her surprise, Robin merely paused a moment before nodding gravely and sharing a look with Allan that she did not understand._

"_Right, let's get into our robes and I'll fill you in on what I learned from Marian." He said._

_So they draped their Saracen attire over their regular clothes, and then Djaq applied a temporary dye to Robin's face, neck, hands, and arms so that he would not stand out so very much among the Saracens at the party. She reminded him that he would still have to keep to the shadows and that he really should say as little as possible. She was afraid that him trying to pass as one of her people would have about as much chance of success as her trying to pass as an Englishwoman._

_She had actually suggested to him more than once that he simply dress as one of the Sheriff's guards. There would be many there, and one more would surely go unnoticed. She did not wish to spoil his plan or his fun, but she was not as confident in his ability to pass for Saracen as he was. _

_His pronunciation of Arabic, something of which he was extremely proud, was nowhere near to sounding authentic, although that was something she had never had the heart to tell him. And his eyes were clearly those of a European. But he had insisted that he needed to be in amongst the Saracens in order to pick up on what was being said. So she had no choice but to help him blend in and hope that he was very careful._

_As they got ready, Robin told her what he had learned while in the castle earlier._

"_So Marian says that this man is the son of someone very important to Prince John, and that, apparently, Prince John has given strict instructions that he is to be treated like royalty." Robin told her._

"_Really? So is he _actually_ royalty?" Djaq asked him, crinkling her nose and biting her lip in concentration over the sight in front of her. "Keep still." She ordered as she applied the finishing touches of dye to his neck._

"_No, Marian does not think so. She had yet to be introduced to him, however, so she knew only what Gisborne had told her." She noticed the crease in his forehead as he said the name. "But she says that he and the Sheriff are quite unhappy about it. She says that, as Prince John's special guest, he is to be given whatever he wants and is to be kept happy at all costs. There. What do you think?" He asked, standing up and facing her after giving his robe one final tug. _

"_Hmm. Good enough. Just please be careful, Robin."_

"_I'm always careful." He grinned and winked at her, clearly full of excitement over the prospect of a successful mission. "Djaq?" He said, suddenly very serious. "Are you alright? About Will, I mean?"_

_Just then John came in, dressed as a kitchen delivery man, saving her the trouble of answering. "The cart is ready. Are you? We should go now." John stated._

"_We are as ready as we are likely to be." Djaq responded._

_The plan was for John to drive the cart through the gates, pretending to make a last-minute delivery for the party. Once everyone was out of the cart, he would remain at the gates, enabling them to make an inconspicuous getaway later. Djaq and Robin were, of course, to slip into the Great Hall, while Allan and Much were to take up positions just outside._

_Getting into the castle was, once again, relatively uneventful thanks to all of the commotion caused by so many visitors at one time. There were not only the members of the Saracen party, but also most of the Nobility. Not to mention all of the servants and cooks and guards who were milling about._

_Once Djaq and Robin had managed to infiltrate the party, they split up in order to try to gather as much information as possible. As Djaq deftly maneuvered her way through the crowd, she found herself completely in awe of the scene that lay before her. There were not only an overwhelming number of _people_ from her homeland, but there were all manner of furnishings and tapestries, food and spices, musicians and entertainers. If not for the dank stone walls and the presence of so many English, she could easily have believed herself to be attending a lavish feast back home._

_What kind of a man traveled across the sea only to transport practically his entire household with him? But as she thought this over while attempting to glean bits of information from the servants' conversations going on around her, she caught sight of something that froze her in her tracks._

_There, seated at the right side of the Sheriff, was a face she was certain she recognized. But who was he? She knew she had to chance a closer look, and as she did so, she heard him addressed by the Sheriff._

"_So, I hope that everything is to your liking. My only wish is for you to be as comfortable as possible during your _short_ stay with us, Lord...um...Rashid um...Forgive me, how is it pronounced again?" The Sheriff looked terribly uncomfortable. Clearly, the role of fawning sycophant was not one he was cut out to play._

_The translator made quick work of relaying the Sheriff's words to his master, and Djaq was amused to hear that he did not fail to include the deliberate emphasis on the word 'short.'_

_She heard Rashid respond, in a very bored tone of voice, directly to his smiling host in rapid Arabic._

"_**Rashid abd-al-Rahman ibn Basil ibn Azhar al-Filistini, you grinning imbecile." ****And with that, he smiled just as broadly as the clueless Sheriff.** _

_Djaq had to stifle her laughter as well as her growing curiosity and excitement as she tried to adopt a look of composure while crossing the room to find Robin. She found him, looking just as awe-struck at the lush surroundings as she had been, and keeping a watchful eye on Lady Marian. _

"_Follow me out." She whispered quickly as she approached._

"_What is it? What's happened? Have you overheard something of importance?" He asked anxiously once they had exited the Great Hall._

"_In a manner of speaking." She began. "Robin, I know that man. The Saracen. He was a childhood acquaintance of mine and my brother. We are actually extended family by marriage. His name is Rashid and his father is a very high-ranking general in Salah ad-Din's army. If he is here as an envoy for his father, who is no lover of peace, then something dreadful is being plotted."_

"_Are you certain about this?"_

"_I am. I only hope that he remembers me. I cannot imagine that he does not. I think that it would be safe for me to speak with him, provided I do not reveal my antipathy for the Sheriff nor my association with you. But I cannot do so while he remains so near the Sheriff. Do you think that we could get hold of parchment and quill?" She asked._

"_You wish to write him a note? What if it falls into the Sheriff's hands?" Robin asked her._

"_I will write it in Arabic and I'll sign it Saffiya. The Sheriff will not be the wiser and Rashid would understand it no other way." She answered._

_So Robin nodded and ran off to find a quill and parchment while Djaq thought over the truly bizarre turn that events had now taken. Once Robin returned, she set about hastily scribbling the note._

"_What will you write?" Robin wondered._

"_I've written, 'Please do not react to this note. Kindly meet me out in the hallway alone.' And I've signed it Saffiya bint Sayed ibn Ghazi al-misri."_

"_Do you think he'll come?"_

"_We are about to find out." She answered as she strode back into the room. _

"_**You.**" She said in Arabic to a servant girl near the door. "**Take this note to your master and see to it that its contents is kept private. Go now.**" And the girl tottered off to do her bidding. Djaq had learned a long time ago that whether you are addressing your own brother, a servant, your fellow soldiers, or English outlaws, a confident tone and authoritative manner go a long way towards assuring that your orders are obeyed._

_She watched as the girl delivered the rolled up parchment and was relieved to see an excited expression come over Rashid's face as he read the note discreetly and looked up to scan the room in hopes of seeing her. She knew that she would be difficult to spot, considering the fact that her head and part of her face were covered, so she raised her hand slightly as he looked in her direction. Once his eyes fell on her, she nodded lightly and turned to make her way out into the hall, waving a curious Robin out of her way as she did so._

_Once he had made his excuses to the Sheriff and Nobles he had been sitting with, Rashid joined her out in the hall and she led him to a quiet corner where they could converse in semi-privacy. _

"_**Saffiya? Is it really you? How have you come to be in this place? I was rendered speechless by your note. You are believed to be dead. Did you know that? How long have you been here? Did you know that I would be here? Are you a guest of this man Vaysey? This is all so miraculous. I really cannot believe you are here."**_

_Speechless was not exactly the term she would use to describe the young man. Perhaps about as speechless as Much. But she was glad that he seemed happy to see her. **"Peace be upon you, Rashid." **She said to him politely in Arabic._

"_**Yes, of course. Forgive me, Saffiya. And peace be upon you as well, and also God's mercy and his blessings."**_

_She nodded at him in thanks. **"I have actually been in this land for the better part of two years, I believe." **She said, smiling at the almost child-like eagerness in his eyes.** "I was captured and brought here as a slave, in fact. But I was fortunate enough to have been rescued by some very kind friends who have since taken me in. I am not an invited guest, no. However, when I heard that one ****of our people was being received by Sheriff Vaysey, I was anxious to see for myself. I am sorry to hear that I am believed dead at home. Although I had feared it might be so."**_

"_**I am sorry for your troubles. Although I must confess that finding you here is an answer to my prayers. I mean that quite literally, Saffiya. I have been in such a terrible quandary and I know not how to proceed. I have prayed to Allah regularly for guidance since leaving home several months ago, and now He has sent you to me. Allah be praised."**_

"_**Allah be praised." **She agreed. **"But a quandary, Rashid? Whatever can be causing you such turmoil? May I be of some assistance?" **She inquired as innocently as she could. She was struck by how ready and anxious he seemed to discuss his business with her._

"_**I fear that we cannot speak freely here. Besides, there is much I wish to ask you. Could you not invite me to your home after this feast is over? Do you live nearby?" **He asked her excitedly._

"_**Well, I am afraid that the home in which I live is extremely small and, as I said, I reside with friends. So our conversation could not take place freely there either. Is there nowhere here that we can meet in order to speak openly with one another?" **She already knew in what part of the castle he was staying, but she was hoping that he would bring it up. _

_She had no wish to divulge anything to him until she could better ascertain his intentions. Although her instincts told her that he was harmless. But that just opened up a whole knew series of questions about his presence in England._

"_**I have been given a section of this...**_**castle****_, as they call it, for my own use by that fool Vaysey. Could you possibly stay here tonight? Would your friends mind terribly? I shall have a servant prepare the best room for you. Although I fear that you will be disappointed in the amenities. These English are dogs, Saffiya. How can you stand living amongst them?" _**

_She was surprised at the fury that threatened to erupt from within her upon hearing those words from him. She was filled with a nearly overwhelming need to defend her friends against such hateful prejudice. She had once believed the same of the English, and she now knew how foolish and ignorant she had been. But she reminded herself of her purpose and instead made no response to his anti-English sentiments._

"_**It would please me greatly to meet with you after your feast, but I do not think it would be wise for me to stay here as a guest of the Sheriff." **She decided to take a chance in voicing her feelings for the Sheriff after hearing him refer to the man in such unflattering terms. **"He is actually the one who purchased my fellow captives and me and had us transported here so many months ago. It was him from whom I was freed and if he saw me here now, he would undoubtedly have me arrested or worse." **There. Not exactly a lie, but not really the truth either. Allan would be proud._

_But she was determined not to mention Robin. If Rashid had spent so much time with Prince John before arriving here, he may well have heard the nasty rumors that Prince John often circulates about Robin Hood and his men. She did not know what opinions he may have formed already._

"_**How terrible such an ordeal must have been for you, Saffiya. However, I do not believe that the Sheriff has any idea of the staff who have accompanied me here. You would not be noticed if you did not wish to be. You could obscure your face with a veil and stay out of his direct line of sight."**_

"_**I do not know." **She was struck by two things. First, this could give her the space she needed from Will, so that she could sort out their troubles without the distraction of having him around. Second, she would be in a perfect position to gather information for Robin. But could she really do this? Robin would hate the idea. So would the others, in fact. _

"_**Vaysey pays little attention to anyone except for my translator and myself anyway." **He continued.** "Please. It would mean such a great deal to me. Seeing you here has given me my first glimmer of hope in a very long time. And you would be perfectly safe, I assure you."**_

"_**Very well. I appreciate your hospitality. I must go and speak with a friend who has accompanied me here tonight. Then, if you would point me in the direction of the room that is to be mine, I will wait there for your party to end. If that is alright with you. You should probably get back to the Sheriff before he comes in search of you. You are, after all, the guest of honor. You must surely be missed already."**_

"_**Yes, of course you are right." **And he sent for a servant to prepare a room and then return in order to lead her there._

"_**We will speak soon, Saffiya. And thank you."**_

"_**I look forward to it. And thank **_**you****_." _**_And as he turned to walk back into the party and she went in search of Robin, she actually felt slightly guilty over her deception. He was clearly troubled and he looked upon her as a link to something. She was not quite certain what. Home, family, his conscience? But she felt badly about deceiving him so. About making him think she was only there to assist him and keep his counsel._

_Robin, as it turned out, was not far at all. He had been trying his best to eavesdrop on their conversation, but had only been able to gather bits and pieces, thanks to his limited understanding of Arabic combined with the fact that he'd had to keep some measure of distance from them._

"_Well?" He asked her immediately when she got near._

"_He has told me little so far. But he wishes to confide in me, I can tell. He dislikes the Sheriff and he seems terribly troubled over whatever is going on here. I can tell you this. His father is a greedy and power-hungry man. At least that is the way I remember him. And he would never send his son on a mission of peace. In fact, I am surprised that he sent Rashid at all. Rashid has an older brother who would be far better suited to whatever corruption is brewing. But I will have a chance to find out more later tonight." Here comes the tricky part. "I am staying here in a room that he is having prepared for me as we speak. I will be well out of the Sheriff's sight and I will be in a much better position to find out all I can."_

"_You're what? No, Djaq. No. That's much too risky. You can't be serious. How do you know this isn't some sort of trap?" He asked._

"_It's not. What would be the purpose? He knows nothing of my association with you and he seems truly in need of my help. I'll be fine, Robin. Please, just trust me. I need to do this. Besides, you know me well enough to know that I will be very careful. Especially now. Just get the others and head back to camp. I'll either come to the forest tomorrow or I'll send word to you." _

"_I don't like this, Djaq." And he paused, seeming to think it over. "I...I suppose I will have to trust your instincts about this man. But I don't like it." _

"_It will all work out, Robin. Now go. The girl is coming now to show me to my room." And she left him standing there. She could tell that he wanted to argue with her, but part of him knew that she was right. She wasn't sure if he really had faith in her ability to judge the danger accurately or if his desire to stop the Sheriff and Prince John outweighed his interest in her safety. And she was not sure she really _wanted_ to know._

_She was led to a very nicely prepared room in the wing set aside for Rashid. It was large, with a large bed in the center and very fine rugs and tapestries and chairs placed about the room. There was a table of food laid out for her as well as a bath. She thanked the young woman, who bowed and left the room. Then Djaq extinguished most of the candles, bolted the door, sat on the bed, and finally allowed herself to weep. _

_She wept for the child inside of her, who had been neglected by her for so long now and who was being brought into a life filled with danger and unrest. She wept for Will, the man she loved so dearly, and the look of sadness on his face when he had fled from her earlier, as well as for the distance between them. And, at last, she wept for herself, something she had probably never done before. _

_She would be sleeping all alone for the first time in years and, while she knew it was rather childish, she would miss the company of her friends. She wondered, too, if her instincts about Rashid not being a threat were correct. She had always trusted herself, but, Allah knew that she had made a real mess out of a good many things as of late, and she just hoped that this was not one of them. _

He would be arriving at her chamber door at some point, and she knew that she would need to be in complete control of her emotions when he did. A great deal was riding on what she could discover from him. So, having no appetite and feeling suddenly very alone, she merely sat on the big silk-laden bed, dried her eyes, and she waited.


	12. Nighttime Conversations

_**A/N: **This chapter picks up on the same night that the last two left off. Actually, this chapter is only half of Chapter 12. It got way out of control (shame on me! I should be shot for always writing such long chapters, I know!) so the other half will follow, probably this week. _

_Once again, any conversations between Djaq and Rashid are to be understood as having been spoken in Arabic. (Although, obviously, I have written them in English.)_

_akhawaat = an Arabic word meaning sister._

_Here we go..._

**Nighttime Conversations**

**At the camp**

"So she wasn't captured?" Relief flooded through him as he tried to steady himself and recover from the shock of hearing that the woman he loved was stuck in the castle.

"For the last time, _no_!" Allan practically shouted, forgetting to keep his voice down for safety's sake. They were still standing a few paces outside the camp entrance, facing one another.

"But Robin just _left_ her there?" Will asked incredulously.

How could he do that? Will could certainly understand why she would offer, but why would Robin go along with it? Surely they could have gathered information without her actually _staying_ in the castle!

"It's like I told you. He says that she knows the guy and she thought she could get to the bottom of everything if she could have a private conversation with him. He's like a relative or something. So when he offered her a room for the night, she said yes. Robin says he tried to sway her but she was determined." Allan provided.

He was aware that he actually sounded like he was defending Robin's decision now, and he mentally kicked himself. He was still as angry over Robin leaving her there as he had been when Robin had first come out of the castle without her and told them the plan.

"But what about the Sheriff? I mean, he _knows_ Djaq! He's seen her up close and he _knows_ she's with _us_. She might as well be walking around with a target on her back. Why would Robin agree to something like that? Couldn't they have met with this guy some other way? She's just not safe there." Will fumed.

"Yeah, well maybe if you had been around and done your part like you were suppose to, you could've talked her out of staying." Allan said pointedly, his hostility bubbling back to the surface.

Will just nodded. His earlier panic was now being replaced by his guilt over driving her to such a desperate act. She clearly wanted to be as far away from him as she could after the way that he'd spoken to her earlier. He hadn't even meant for their conversation to take such a turn, he just hadn't been prepared for the way that her voice and her eyes had pleaded with him to try to find some common ground. That was something that, despite his greatest efforts, he still seemed unable to do.

He absently plopped himself down on a stump near where he'd been standing and exhaled deeply. He hated what their relationship had become. Everything had gone so wrong since that night in the cave.

He had really thought that she'd loved him that night. She _said_ she did, and he'd believed her. And the look in her eyes had confirmed it. She had kissed him and let him touch her and hold her and he had honestly been happier than any man ever had a right to be. He had wanted to spend his life with her, every day of it. It had never occurred to him that she wouldn't want that too. And when it turned out that she didn't, it had broken his heart.

He had always loved her so much before that but he had been content to adore her in silence, from afar. He would probably have gone to his grave without ever having acted upon his feelings because he would never have wanted to make her uncomfortable or feel like she could no longer be herself around him. But once they had started down that road to love and intimacy together, he had known that he could _never_ go back.

And when she'd kissed him and told him that she loved him too, he had just taken for granted that it was the beginning of something truly special. He'd assumed that she'd been thinking the same. Now he knew that he had absolutely no idea what she had been thinking that night. He didn't think that she did either. Perhaps she hadn't been thinking at all. Perhaps that was the problem.

Maybe she just got caught up in everything and things had gone way too far. But he would never have allowed things to _go_ that far if he would have known that she was unsure. He would never have even considered it. Not only because of the embarrassment and regret that it would mean for _her_, but also because of the risk to his own heart. He couldn't give himself to her halfway. He simply didn't know how. So if he would have had any indication that being with her that night was going to hurt them both so very much, he would never have given in to his feelings. He would have kept them to himself forever.

But now, that just wasn't an option. He thought that it was kind of like those stories that Djaq told around the fire sometimes at night. The ones about the magic man, a genie is what she called him, who was released from an oil lamp and then granted wishes. Will had let his feelings for her _out_ on that night and he had allowed his _heart_ to wish for the one thing he had always been so careful never to hope for..._her_. And now he simply had no idea how to force it all back in, to bottle it up and put it back on a shelf and out of the way of both of them.

That was exactly what he'd been trying to do for months now. To push it all back down inside of him and go back to the way things used to be. It was impossible, but he had to do it. It's what _she_ _wanted_. She had told him so on the morning after their night together and he'd had no choice but to comply. He couldn't force her to love him _then_ any more than he could _now_. And even when she told him that he was going to be a father and that she would stay and raise the baby with him, she had let him know in no uncertain terms that she wanted nothing but his friendship and support.

_Comrades_, was what she said they would be. He still remembered her exact words. _We will not share a bed. We will be comrades only. _That's what she said and that was what he'd agreed to give her. So no matter how confused he became over her behavior towards him, no matter how sweetly she smiled or softly she spoke or how often she looked at him in a way that his heart wanted so desperately to believe matched the longing that _he_ felt, he just had to keep reminding himself of one thing.

Djaq was a woman who always said what she meant. She had no trouble telling you what was on her mind. If she had any romantic feelings for him at all, she would have said so. Without a doubt. She knew what he felt for her and how he'd been struggling with it. If she wanted intimacy, she would have told him. Instead, she told him that she wanted his friendship and he had no choice but to honor her wishes. And he'd been _trying_!

But then today things had gotten all mixed up. He'd wanted her so badly. He had only really intended to press his body close to hers and maybe breathe in the scent of her. It wasn't right, he knew, but they had been in such an awkward position, stuck behind that bookcase, that he thought he might be able to take advantage of their closeness.

But he'd really expected her to stop him. To push him away or call him on his behavior or even stiffen her body to let him know that he was crossing a line. But when she didn't _do_ any of those things, he'd thought that maybe he could get away with pushing things just a little bit further. But he'd never meant to go as far as he did. He got carried away. It was just...she...well she hadn't really seemed to _mind_.

If fact, he had felt like they were finally connecting. Like maybe, if he could kiss her and touch her body and make her feel the way she had that first night, that she would be his...all his. But it had been wrong of him to ever put her in that position and frighten her that way. And it was even worse for him to admit to her that he'd failed her. That all of these months had been a lie. That he couldn't and would _never_ be what she wanted him to be. What he'd promised her he _would_ be.

That's what had hurt her the most. He could tell. He saw it on her face before he'd left her. It was _that_ look that had kept him away from camp and from taking his place on their mission. And now he'd left her exposed and in danger.

"Is that it, then? You just gonna nod and sit there?" Allan asked, hoping for a confrontation.

He didn't even know why. He had just been so frustrated lately. Nothing was right! Will and Djaq and him used to all be so close. They had always had so much fun together. And he wasn't jealous, exactly. At least he didn't think so. He just hated the way that everything was now.

When he had first found out about the two of them and the fact that they were going to be having a kid and getting married, he'd thought that it was going to be kind of hard for him to get used to seeing them together. That watching them grow closer without him was something he would have to learn to live with but would never really adjust to. But _this_ was so much worse. Neither of them were happy and they were anything but close. And he couldn't, for the life of him, figure out why.

"Well?" He prodded angrily after a moment went by without a response from Will. But, as he walked over to stand in front of where Will was sitting, he caught sight of the look on his friend's face. "Hey. Come on. I'm sure she's fine. And I know it ain't _your_ fault she's there. You know how she is. She would have volunteered for this whether you'd have been there or not." He tried in a friendlier tone.

"Yeah. I guess. I don't know." Will responded weakly, not looking at Allan.

Just then the hatch swung open and Robin, stepping out, said, "I thought I heard you out here, Will. Nice of you to _join_ us. I'm guessing Allan's told you about Djaq and I suppose you will want to add your outrage to that of everyone else? You may as well come inside. You too, Allan. Let's get this out in the open now, while _we're_ all here and Djaq isn't." And he motioned them to enter, which they did, and he followed them inside.

**At the castle**

Djaq's eyes snapped open as she heard commotion outside in the corridor. She hadn't meant to fall asleep and had no idea how long she'd been that way. She sat up, immediately alert, and rubbed her face, trying to erase any sign of slumber.

From the shuffling of feet and the murmur of softly spoken Arabic, she knew that the party downstairs had finally reached its end and that Rashid's people were filing down the hall and settling into their rooms for the night. She stood up, straightening her robes and veil as she did so, then stretched, marveling at the difference in the way her back felt after waking from an actual bed rather than the bunk to which she'd grown accustomed.

The tiniest smile slid across her lips as she felt a small flutter in her abdomen. "_Go back to sleep now, Little One._" She whispered in Arabic as she ran a hand over her tummy.

She quickly crossed the room and withdrew one of the lit candles from its holder, using it to relight the ones she'd extinguished earlier. Then she unbolted the door, knowing that it would be best if, once Rashid arrived and knocked, she was standing across the room and could simply call out to him to enter. That way, if there was trouble or any sort of threat, she would not be caught unawares.

Although, after considering the matter, her now somewhat-more-rested mind agreed with her earlier assessment of him. She didn't believe that he meant her any harm at all. In fact, he'd appeared to be so genuinely overjoyed at the sight of her earlier in the evening that she could not help but think that getting him to share his reasons for being in England would not be so terribly difficult. However, she decided to employ the practice that had always served her so well during her life, _Hope for the best, be prepared for the worst_.

Just then there was a light knock at the door and Djaq recrossed the room in order to stand clear of anyone entering.

"_Enter_." She called calmly, with her right hand beneath her robe and resting on the hilt of her sword. She was incredibly thankful for the bulky fit and numerous folds of her Saracen attire which allowed her to easily conceal not only her weapon, but also her slightly bulging belly.

"_Saffiya?_" Came the quiet voice of Rashid as he peeked around the door and scanned the large room for her. When his eyes settled on her, he asked considerately, "_Am I disturbing you?_"

"_Not at all. I was expecting you. Please, enter. Has the party finally concluded, then?_"

"_It has. Only just now though, actually. I am very sorry to have kept you waiting. I feared that you had, perhaps, fallen asleep._" And he stepped through the doorway and turned back to softly close the door.

"_Oh no._" She lied easily. "_I knew how urgently you wanted to speak with me. Let us sit down and you can tell me what has been troubling you. And how you feel that I may be of assistance._"

"_Are you certain that you do not mind sitting up a bit longer? I know that the hour is late and I am sure that you are tired. I can discuss these matters with you in the morning, if you would rather._" He offered.

"_Not at all. I am very anxious to speak with you, Rashid. Please, sit. And thank you for the lovely room as well as the meal. You needn't have gone to so much trouble, however._" She said sincerely.

"_Nonsense. It was nothing. Truly._" And he took a seat as she did the same. "_I wish I could have offered more. You cannot know, Saffiya, how seeing you, especially here, has lightened my heart. I cannot help but see it as the work of Allah himself. I have been struggling for so long now with such grave matters that I confess I had all but given up hope._"

She once again felt that little twinge of guilt over misleading him in this way. But she would not compromise her friends nor this mission over some foolish sentimentality.

"_Can things really be that dire? Are you in some sort of danger, Rashid?_" She asked him.

"_Indeed, they are dire. But it is not my life for which I fear, it is my soul. I find myself involved in matters that can surely come to no good end. There are things underway here that I fear would shock you terribly. You are probably unaware, being so very far from home, but there is some discussion of peace between our people and the European Crusaders. The English King wishes to bring matters to an end because he has received numerous reports that his brother plots to steal his throne._" He told her carefully.

He was correct, she was not aware of any peace talks. Could it be possible that Rashid was, in fact, on some sort of peace mission then? No. Prince John and the Sheriff would never participate in anything that would result in the English King returning home. So was the man before her lying? His eyes said otherwise. She must hear more in order to make a determination.

"_I was not aware of that. That is good news then and I am glad for it. Our people have been at war for far too long. I do not understand your anguish, however. Do you not rejoice over the possibility of peace?_" She asked, ready to gauge his reaction.

"_Oh, Saffiya, peace is my greatest wish! I have never had a taste for war, as you may recall. Not the way that some men do._" He spat out this last part with such contempt that it took her by surprise. He had remained completely subdued and soft spoken up until that moment. "_I am actually here on a matter concerning my father. May I confide some things in you that you will, undoubtedly, find shocking and disgraceful?_" He asked her carefully.

"_Of course you may._" She spoke just as cautiously.

But even as she answered him, her active mind was already putting the pieces in order. Rashid's father, **Basil abd-al-Muhaymin****,** was a great and powerful war-general who owed his wealth and his status to his savagery in battle and his usefulness to the Sultan. He was the kind of man who was, in fact, only _needed_ during times of war. During times of peace, such a man would be swept aside to make way for other men. Statesmen, scribes, negotiators. Men of peace and learning who were skilled in the art of diplomacy.

A man like Basil would stop at nothing in order to preserve what he had worked for and built over an entire lifetime. And who better to have as an ally than the only other man on earth who stood to lose as much as he did if peace were declared. So he and Prince John were seeking to thwart the peace effort, were they? Hmm. Everything made a bit more sense now. But where did Rashid fit in?

"_My father has sent me here to settle the terms of an alliance with the prince of this land. I have been at his castle in London for months now waiting to finalize an agreement between the two. This will be very difficult for you to believe, I am sure, but my father has no wish to see peace triumph across our great land. He is actually working _against_ such measures as we speak, Saffiya!_"

Djaq had to marvel at his naiveté, regarding both his father and her.

"_In fact,_" he continued, "_he risks bringing not only great danger, but also great shame on our entire family by doing so. He has secured the support of many of our officials and generals, they ask only a substantial payment from him in order to act upon his orders. It is my understanding that the English King's brother has much the same understanding with some of his own people. But securing not only __their support, but their silence as well, has proven to be a very costly undertaking. My father has sent me here in order to collect additional funding from this prince and then transport it back home._"

"_I see. So you have been in this country for so long because Prince John does not wish to pay?_" She asked.

"_Oh no. He is as anxious to move ahead with the plan as my father is. It is I who have been...dragging __my feet, so to speak. I hate what my father is doing. It is terribly wrong! It is against Allah and the Sultan, and I want no part in it!_" There, again, was that spark of passion. He looked down at the floor as if ashamed of his participation thus far. "_So I have been pretending to enjoy England so much that I am unwilling to part from here just yet. It is a weak attempt at best, I know. And it will serve to do no more than delay the inevitable, I am certain. But I can think of no better or more permanent method for stopping this madness._"

He sighed deeply and seemed lost in thought. Djaq decided not to prod him to continue and, after a moment, he went on.

"_So this lie about enjoying my stay here is what I tell them whenever they press me to finalize our transaction, and they are so afraid of alienating my father that they do whatever they can in order to ensure my contentment. They have yet to realize that my father's interests and my own do not coincide in this matter. Now they have "politely" offered me hospitality here in Nottingham with this man, Vaysey. It will now be his job, I am certain, to convince me to accept the money and leave for home. I know not how much longer I will be able to feast and smile and pretend to be entertained and charmed by my surroundings. Do you understand my dilemma?_" he asked her with pleading eyes.

"_I'm beginning to, yes. But why, if you are so vehemently opposed to what your father is doing, did he send you here on his behalf? He must have some idea of where your thoughts lie, even if Prince John does not. And, I mean no offense, Rashid, but would not your brother, Zafir, have been better suited to such a task? If I recall correctly, he was always much more...enthusiastic...about war than you were._"

"_Ah, you have not heard. Of course you have not. Zafir was killed in battle. Nearly one year ago now._" He said solemnly.

"_Forgive me, Rashid. Indeed, I did not know. You have my most heart-felt condolences. I know the _

_deep and never-ending pain of such a loss. A beloved brother is a cherished gift. I am truly sorry for your grief._" And she was. Never a day passed when she did not grieve for her own brother, when her heart did not ache for the other half of itself.

"_No no! Please, Saffiya. Do not compare my loss with your own. I am saddened by the death of my brother, yes, but we were never close. We did not have anywhere near the sort of bond that you had with your brother. Zafir and I never shared our childhood in the way that you and Djaq did. Surely you remember that._" He told her. "_But you are right. He would have been better suited to my father's plans than I am. I certainly take no offense at that observation._"

"_So you have been stalling Prince John for all of these months? That certainly explains why you traveled here with so large a staff and so many of the fineries of home. It was your plan all along, then, to attempt to delay matters for as long as possible? Even before you set sail for England?_" She asked.

"_I could think of no viable alternative, I'm afraid. I did attempt to discourage my father from this course, but, as you may well remember, he is a man who has never made any allowances for weakness. And that is how he has always viewed me...as weak. He would have sent someone else if he could have taken the risk. But, as it stood, he had to trust that the ties of blood would outweigh the pull of my conscience and that I would do what he deems necessary for our family._"

"_And so you agreed to do as he bid?_" She questioned.

"_I am afraid that I was too much of a coward to openly defy him, as usual. When my elder brother lived, my father paid me little or no attention, thinking me worthless as far as sons go. But he now attaches all of his hopes to my ability to successfully complete this task for him. But my honor will not permit me to do such a thing, Saffiya._" He bowed his head, shaking it slowly back and forth as if defeated. "_You must forgive me for burdening you with this. But when I saw you, I was so terribly relieved at the prospect of having someone to listen to my plight and who would keep my counsel. I do not dare trust any of my own staff completely._"

Djaq knew that she needed to speak with Robin. She pitied the position that poor Rashid found himself in, stuck between his conscience and his domineering father. Not to mention the fact that he seemed completely unaware of the very real threat he was facing once the Sheriff and Prince John grew tired of playing his waiting game.

She knew that Robin could and would come up with some way of getting his hands on this undoubtedly substantial payment that Rashid's father awaited from Prince John. She must make certain, she decided, that Rashid was kept out of harm's way as much as possible. He was clearly not a young man who was cut out for politics or espionage, and she felt a certain responsibility for him and his safety in this matter.

"_Rashid, I have heard all that you have said and I want you to know that I pass no judgments upon you. You are caught in a very complex and dangerous web. Perhaps more dangerous than you realize. But, and this is the important part, I believe that I can, indeed, be of some assistance to you. And not only as a friendly and sympathetic ear. I know someone who can sort this matter out and see to it that the right thing is done. Will you give your consent to me involving him? You have my word that neither he nor I will do anything to compromise either your safety or peace in our homeland._"

She had every intention of sharing what she had learned with Robin one way or the other, but she decided that she felt much more comfortable having Rashid be aware of what was going on than she was working behind his back.

"_Who is this man? Is he to be trusted? Was is your relationship to him? If Prince John hears of my efforts to delay his plan, all that I have done thus far will place me in grave danger as well as render all my efforts in vain._" He looked at her, wide-eyed.

"_Rashid, do you trust me?_"

"_I do._" He said with out hesitation, and she was touched and saddened by his innocence. Such a person should not be involved in such things.

"_Give me the morning to speak with this man and then I believe that I will be able to answer all of your questions. Again, you have my word that I will do my best to see to it that you are kept safe._" She assured him.

"_I do trust you, Saffiya. And thank you. It seems that I was correct in recognizing you as an answer to my prayers. I will leave you to rest now, if you wish. It sounds as if you will have a busy morning._" And he rose to take his leave of her.

"_If you are not opposed to staying for a short while, there is much I would like to ask you of home._" She said hopefully.

"_Oh, of course! Please forgive my selfishness. Yes, yes. Let us stay up and talk. I see you have not touched your supper. I confess, I was so anxious to speak with you that I ate very little at my own feast. I shall have something brought for us and then we may converse with full stomachs. Thank you again, akhawaat. For everything._" He smiled at her as he walked to the door in order to call for a servant.

Hearing him refer to her as his sister, even as nothing more than an honorary title, made her chest tighten the slightest bit. Djaq was, obviously, the only person who had ever called her that, and she would have preferred that it remain so. Still, she found that she could bear him no ill will over the slip. She was just glad that things had turned out so well thus far, and she only hoped that she could be true to her promise to keep him safe.

**At the camp**

"Right." Robin began after the lads were all gathered inside the camp. "Anything you want to say to me, Will? Allan, Much and even John have already told me exactly what they think of my leadership skills tonight. What would you like to add?" He asked, forcing himself to speak as if they were discussing nothing more important than the weather. He was getting sick and tired of having to have a similar discussion every time something involving Djaq came up.

"Now, Robin. Nobody said you weren't a good leader." John admonished, shaking his head. Did this have to turn into some big dramatic display?

"No? Well it was certainly implied. And that's fine. Really. We are all entitled to have a say here. And I understand everyone's frustration. Djaq is at the castle and you all are worried about her. I am too. But, as I told you a _hundred_ times tonight, it was her choice to stay. In fact the entire thing was her idea. She promised me she would be careful and I believe her."

"But the Sheriff! How could you leave her right under his nose like that?" Will finally demanded angrily.

"_And_ you said she's not coming home until tomorrow! You don't even know _when_ tomorrow. So we won't even know if anything has happened to her until she doesn't show up. By then it could be too late!" Much tossed out. Sometimes he just didn't understand Robin. How could this ever have seemed like a good idea to him? Or to Djaq?

"No it _won't_ be too late because we're not waiting until tomorrow. We're going to march back to the castle and search every room until we find her. Even if we have to check under the Sheriff's bed." Allan responded heatedly.

"Under the Sheriff's bed? Come on, Allan! You too, Much. She's fine. And besides, Will, weren't you the one who walked into camp a few months ago and demanded that every one of us agree to treat Djaq just as we always have? That despite the fact that she was with-child, she expected to be treated as one of the lads and be sent on missions and such? Isn't that what I've been doing? Honoring her, not to mention _your_, wishes?" He asked.

"Robin, this is not because she's a woman or even because she's with-child. It's because staying in the castle like this is stupid and dangerous. And it _would_ be no matter which one of us it was." Will answered with desperation.

He couldn't help but be aware that Djaq would never have taken such a risk if it hadn't been for their difficulties earlier. She was always brave when there was something dangerous that needed to be done, but she was also very careful. This was not the sort of thing that she would just decide on a moment's notice.

"Well that's what _he_ says." Allan added. "But I say that it _is_ because she's pregnant! I mean, come on. Are we all just gonna keep walking around here pretending like nothing's changed? It _has_! _She_ has and everybody's gonna have to face it sooner or later." Allan shouted at no one in particular.

"What is _that_ supposed to mean?" Much asked.

"What is it with you lately? I mean, I get why Much worries about her. He worries about everything. That's just Much. But what is this thing you have with Djaq all of a sudden?" Robin asked Allan.

"What _thing_? I haven't got any sort of a _thing_ with Djaq! What are you implying?" Allan questioned defensively.

"Every time there's something for her to do or someplace for her to go you have to stick your nose in where it doesn't belong! Like the other day when, for reasons I still can't figure out, I let you talk me into sending Will into the castle with Djaq instead of _you_. And you see how that turned out!" Robin said, trying to remain as calm as he could.

"You did _what_?" Will glared at Allan. "Why?"

"I just thought that you guys needed some time alone together. That's all. I was just trying to help." Allan answered.

"That's just what I'm talking about." Robin told him. "You're always trying to _help_. You want to _help_ Djaq and Will spend time together. You want to _help_ by telling me not to send her on missions that may be dangerous. You want to _help_ Much be careful when he spars with her.--"

"You told him that?" Allan asked in disbelief, turning toward Much.

"You...you _threatened_ me!" Much replied.

"The point I'm making is _when_ did you suddenly become so _helpful _to Djaq? When did you appoint yourself her guardian and protector?" Robin wanted to know.

"Somebody has to be!" Allan shot back.

"What?" Will asked angrily.

"What does that even mean? We all care for Djaq, Allan. You know that and so does she. She would not like everyone worrying about her this way. I notice that none of you ever act this way when she's around. And, for the last time, she's _fine_!" Robin told him.

"_Is_ she?" Allan challenged.

"Isn't she?" Much asked, genuinely curious now.

"Of course she is." Will answered Much.

"Really? She's not herself. That's for sure." Allan huffed.

"She's expecting a child. There's bound to be some adjustments." John said reasonably.

"Adjustments? What adjustments has she made? Have you ever even heard her _refer_ to the baby? Or being a mother?" Allan asked all of them. Could they really be so blind?

"The child is not even born yet, Allan." John said.

"Besides, she refers to the child." Robin answered.

"Yeah, of course she does." Much chimed in.

"When? What did she say?" Allan asked the group.

No one answered. They all thought it over.

"Well I can't actually recall. But I'm sure she has." Robin finally answered. Although not very convincingly.

"Maybe she talks about such matters with Marian. You know, women's talk." Much offered.

"Actually, Much, Marian said something similar to me not too long ago." Robin said in a voice now tinged with concern. "She said that Djaq doesn't like to talk about the baby. Only the pregnancy, but not what comes after. I told her she was being silly worrying over such matters. I told her that a woman like Djaq had her own way of dealing with things."

"She's fine." John reassured them.

"No. Allan's right." Will said solemnly. "At least about this. I've seen it too. But Robin's right too. She does have her own way of dealing with things. I really think that she'll work it out. She just needs us to be here for her, but not get in her way. That's what she said she wanted. For us not to try to keep her from doing what's important to her."

"That's what I've been saying. She wanted to stay at the castle tonight so that she could try to get something useful out of this Saracen guy. If we go storming in there and undermine her, she will not take it well. Anyway, this young man is someone she knows from home. Don't you think there are things she'd like to ask him. Things she'd like to know? About the family she left behind?" Robin tried to reason with his men.

"We're her family." Much said. "And what if the Sheriff catches her?"

"She is way on the other side of the castle in a very nice room all to herself." Robin said exasperatedly.

"How do you know that? I thought you said you last spoke with her outside the Great Hall. Maybe there _was_ no room. Maybe it was a trick. Did you think of that?" Allan asked.

"I _know_ because I followed her up to the room. I waited until a servant showed her to her chamber and I quietly trailed behind, without her seeing me, just so we'd know where she was." Robin answered.

"Why didn't you say that when you first came out of there?" Much wondered.

"Because no one gave me much of a chance, did they? You were all too busy telling me how I don't care about Djaq's safety and that if it were Marian I would feel differently. Isn't that right?" Robin asked the group.

No one responded.

"And," He continued, "just so you know, Marian is _also_ staying at the castle. And no, I don't like it, but she and her father were ordered to do so by the Sheriff, seeing as there are so many feasts and parties planned at the castle in the next couple of weeks. So I can do nothing but trust that she can take care of herself."

The others all nodded. But Robin didn't want to let on that he was actually extremely worried about Marian's safety. In fact, he was starting to wonder why he hadn't been more worried about _Djaq's_. Was he fair to her? If what the lads and Marian said was true, Djaq had been struggling with something serious lately and he hadn't even noticed. She always seemed so capable of taking care of herself. And she _was_.

She and John were the two of his men that he worried about the _least_. Well, truthfully, he never worried about them at all. They didn't need him to and he was always glad. It was one less thing to occupy his mind. But did he disregard Djaq because she was so steady and reliable? He depended on her help and support. She would offer him her ideas when he asked, but she never really questioned his orders. She was the only one. She always obeyed him. Regardless of what he asked of her.

Would she have knowingly put herself in danger with this man at the castle just to further Robin's cause? Because she thought it was expected of her? He didn't know. But he _should_ know. She was one of his men. He should have been paying more attention. He just always assumed she could handle anything. She told him she could and he'd found it easy to believe her. Was that wrong?

Even when Will had shocked them all with the announcement that Djaq was pregnant and he was the father, he hadn't really been worried about _Djaq_. He had worried about Will and how he would cope. Robin hadn't even realized that there had been feelings between the two. How's _that_ for not paying attention?

He had a vague recollection of Will alluding to caring for her at some point last year, but Robin hadn't thought it was anything serious. But once he knew that they were involved, he had worried that Will was not mature enough to be with a woman like Djaq. She was worldly and focused. Will was idealistic and passionate. Robin had been concerned that their relationship might cause conflict within the group. He'd thought that Will might be protective or clingy with her. Or that Will might be pressuring her into marriage. But he had _never_ worried about Djaq not being prepared to handle it.

Now he chastised himself for not being more aware of what was happening in his gang. Maybe they'd needed this talk tonight in order to clear the air. Maybe they were all thinking a bit more clearly now.

"I'm going to head back to the castle and make sure that both Djaq and Marian are alright. I'll be back in a while. Don't wait up." Robin told them, directing the last statement to Much.

"We're all going." Allan announced.

"No, Allan. Please. Trust me. It will only make her angry if she thinks we don't give her credit enough for being able to do this on her own." Robin answered.

"But _you're_ going." Much responded.

"I will just tell her that I'm there to find out what, if anything, she's learned so far. Trust me. It's better this way. And if anything at all seems amiss, I will insist that she come back with me. You have my word."

"But..." Much began.

"At _least_ take Much with you." Allan pleaded. He was incredibly relieved that Robin was going to check on her, but he had no intention of spending the next couple of hours listening to Much whine about Robin being gone so long. No way.

"Yes, take Much!" Will and John agreed at the same time.

"Alright. But we have to be quiet." Robin said to Much. Then, turning to Will, he said quietly, "What about you? I cannot stop you from seeing your own wife."

"She wouldn't want to see me right now. You go. Make sure she's alright." Will answered in a defeated and troubled voice.

Robin nodded and he and Much set out on their way to the castle.


	13. Nighttime Conversations pt2

_**A/N: This was actually meant to be a part of the previous chapter. Thank you so much to everyone who has taken the time to review and tell me what you think.**_

**Nighttime Conversations pt.2**

Once Robin and Much had left camp in order to check on Djaq and Marian at the castle, the other men found themselves enveloped in an awkward silence. The conversation they had all just taken part in had been coming for a long while, but it had still been rather uncomfortable.

After a few moments, Allan was the first to break the silence. "I guess I'll go finish my watch."

"I'll take this shift." Will offered instead. "I need the air." And he exited without waiting for a response.

Will was sitting on a stump near the camp entrance when he heard the hatch opening. He turned to see John step out. The two men nodded at one another but neither man spoke and Will assumed that John was just getting some air as well. But at length, the big man cleared his throat and spoke quietly.

"You know, about a year after me and my Alice were married, I did something really stupid." He paused, making sure he had the other man's undivided attention. He was not one to open up about such matters and he wanted to make sure that Will knew that this was for his benefit.

"Oh?" Will, looking up, wasn't sure what to say. John never talked about his family and Will didn't know what had brought on this sudden desire to do so. But he respected John immensely and so was determined to hear him out.

"And she was furious with me. I mean she was _mad_! Refused to talk to me or even look at me."

"What had you done?" He asked, wide-eyed. Will had known Alice Little all his life and a more gentle woman couldn't be found. He wondered what John could have possibly done to anger her so.

"That's not important." But then, after a pause, he seemed to reconsider. "I said something I shouldn't've."

Will just watched the older man to see if he would go on.

"We had been expecting a child."

"Little Little John?" Now Will was confused. John hadn't even known about his son until Will had let it slip. Besides, the timing of what he was saying wasn't right. Alice and John had been married for years before John went away. Little Little John was not that old.

"No." John felt a pang of guilt at the thought of Alice having to have their son all alone. "Long before that. She lost the child after only a couple of months of pregnancy. And I told her that it didn't matter. That there would be other children. That we should feel blessed that it had happened before we'd gotten too attached." He sighed. "I was trying to help. To be supportive. I was in such agony over it myself and I wanted to be strong for her. But it was the wrong thing to say."

Will said nothing. What could he _possibly_ say? Not only was this more than John had ever said about his family, Will thought that it was more than he had ever said at one time about _anything_. He knew, then, that John was trying to tell him something important. Something that he needed to hear.

"I tried over and over again to make it up to her. To tell her I didn't mean it and to apologize. But she wouldn't hear it. She just couldn't forgive me. It got so bad that she put me out of our bed and I slept on the floor."

Now Will could see where this was going and what it had to do with him. Well, sort of. It was no secret to his fellow outlaws that he and Djaq were not on intimate terms.

"After a time of trying to make amends," John continued, "I just kind of gave up trying. I didn't know what else to say or do. It wasn't that I didn't want things to get better, I just had no idea how to _make_ them so." He sighed before going on. He had been wanting to talk to Will about this for a while now, thinking that it might help him to see some hope in his situation with Djaq, but he was finding the subject matter very difficult.

"Finally," he went on, "it got so bad between us that she moved back in with her mother. Do you remember Alice's mother?" Will shook his head. "Nah, you wouldn't. She passed on when you would have been just a wee lad. Well, if you'd a known her, you'd a known that she was a hard woman to please. Harsh and bitter. Nothing at all like my good natured Alice. Her mother never did think much of me. Figured me for a big, dumb oaf who wasn't good for anything. S'pose she turned out to be right after all."

"John, no"

"Eh." He said waving his hand dismissively. "Anyway, the point I'm making is that I thought we'd reached the end, me and Alice. I couldn't get through to her and everyday seemed to pull us further and further away from each other."

"John, I know you want to help. And I appreciate it. But Djaq and I are different. You and Alice started _out_ together and you just lost your way for a while. We...well we were never really--"

"Let me finish." John said firmly.

Will closed his mouth and simply nodded.

"For the first couple of weeks, I didn't make any move to change things. I didn't know what _to_ do and I started to figure that I had never deserved her anyway. That maybe she was better off without me. That her mother was right and it could never have worked. I thought that we had reached the end."

Will waited. Surely this was not the end of the story. They had another child together. They must have reconciled. He was suddenly very interested in what John had done to win her back. But the other man said nothing, and instead just sat and seemed to think over what he had already revealed.

After a few more minutes of silence, Will ventured to ask, "So what did you do?"

This seemed to bring John back to the present. "I stopped feeling sorry for myself is what I did. I realized that Alice and me were a family and that I needed her. And that she needed me too. That she needed me to be a better man. That it didn't have to be the end...it could be a beginning. So I pulled myself out of the rut I was in and I made a decision."

Will, on pins and needles now, nodded, hoping to prod the other man to continue.

"I courted her." John announced simply.

"You _courted_ her?" That was certainly not what Will was expecting to hear.

"That's right. I courted her. I picked her flowers and took them to her house and left them on her front porch for her to find. After a week or so of that, I stopped by and sat with her in the evenings after supper. Sometimes talking, sometimes just sitting. At first she ignored me, but I was patient and I waited her out. I was careful not to push her too fast. Finally, she consented to go on walks with me. After a while, she'd take my hand. We started _over_. I never tried to kiss her or to get to come back home or anything like that. I just enjoyed her company and gave her a chance to enjoy mine without any pressure for more."

"But, she was your wife. And you couldn't even kiss her?" Will asked skeptically. That sounded rather odd to him.

John just looked at him pointedly, wondering if the lad, who slept mere feet away from his own wife yet never even dared to hold her hand, knew how foolish he sounded.

Will reddened. "Alright. Point taken. And that worked? She came back?"

"She did. Much to her mother's disappointment." He laughed, but there was a longing in his voice and in his eyes that made Will feel awful for him.

"Thank you, John" Will said after a moment's reflection. John merely nodded somberly and made his way back inside.

Could something like that really work for him and Djaq? They had never really spent time together as a couple. They had been thrown together because of the snow storm and they had both gotten swept up in being alone together. They had never held hands, or shared sweet kisses or any of the other things that usually went on between people who were courting.

That had been fine with him, though. He didn't need to take walks or hold hands or pick flowers in order to know that she was the woman he wanted to be with forever. He would have married her right on the spot that night if he could have. But now they _were_ married and there was so much distance between them. And he knew that he was the one who had _put_ that distance there. But perhaps he had been going about things all wrong. Maybe he could still find a way to give her what she wanted. Maybe they could spend time together without any pressure for more.

Maybe they could just start all over. The way that John and Alice had done. Their situation was different, of course. But maybe it could work. Maybe they could take things slowly and just be friends, the way she wanted. But maybe, just maybe, they could build up to something more. Perhaps in time, he and Djaq could recapture some of the closeness they'd had before.

They used to enjoy going on walks and collecting herbs. They used to have such a nice time making deliveries together and going on missions. They would talk and laugh. It was the highpoint of his life. Could they get back to that? If they could, maybe there was still a chance for them. Maybe they could build on that and start something completely new together.

_Maybe, maybe, maybe._ He sighed. She would probably not want to be alone with him. Not after what happened today. And he wasn't sure if he could trust himself to be alone with _her_. So it might not work at all. But it was possible. And he _couldn't_ just give up. He had to _do_ something, and this just might be the thing they needed.

**At the castle**

After spending a considerable portion of the night talking with Rashid about home and people she hadn't seen in a very long time, Djaq had been very tired. She'd eaten her fill while they'd spoken and then Rashid had a servant bring her a change of clothes. She was glad he didn't realize that the ones she'd been wearing were, in fact, stolen from his own servants quarters. Once he'd gone for the night, she decided to take advantage of the bath that had been drawn for her earlier. The water was no longer hot, of course, but it was clean and completely private. That was more than she could claim of her usual bathing spot.

After bathing and changing into a new robe, she settled down on the large and surprisingly comfortable bed in order to get a few hours of much-needed sleep. The dawn would soon be upon her, and she had much to do the following day. As she drifted off, her stomach full of the flavors of home that she hadn't realized how much she'd missed, she finally turned her mind to the problem of Will.

There was more to his distance and discomfort with her than the mere problem of adjustment. Of that she was now quite certain. He was deeply troubled and, what was more, he was nervous around her. And Will Scarlett was not a nervous man. He was brave and confident and always dependable. Missing the mission tonight was simply not like him. There was something going on with him that she had the feeling she should be seeing.

But, either because she had been so wrapped up in her own denials, or perhaps because her feelings for him were so strong, she just couldn't put it all together. But she would have to. She hated the thought of him suffering, and wanted so much to help him. Right now she had to concentrate on this mission, but as soon as this whole business with Rashid and Robin and Prince John was sorted, she would have to do some serious thinking on the matter.

With that new determination, she finally drifted off to sleep. She hadn't been asleep for long, she was certain, when she was awakened by a tapping at her window. She was alert immediately, sitting bolt-upright in the bed and sliding her hand over her sword. The tapping was repeated and she realized that it was Robin's secret knock. She knew that it must be one of the gang.

She quickly made her way over to the window and, still gripping her sword, cautiously pulled back the curtain and unbolted the wooden shutter. As she swung open the shutter doors, she was greeted by the worried face of Much.

"It's about time. I was starting to worry. What took you so long?" He asked her.

"Much, what has happened? Why are you here?" She had expected Robin, or maybe even Allan, but not Much. Had something happened to someone she cared about?

"Well, that's a fine way to greet someone!" He huffed, stepping in through the window and looking around the semi-lit room in wonder. "Oh my! This is actually rather nice. It seems the Sheriff has got himself a new decorator."

"No. These are not the Sheriff's furnishings, they belong to Rashid." She answered rather absently. Her mind was rapidly going over every possible scenario that could send Much alone, at night, to the castle to fetch her. A medical emergency, no doubt. She was trying to decide whether going out the window with him and scaling the side of the building in her condition was completely insane. Of course it was. But sneaking out the front entrance at this time of night wasn't much better.

Either way, one of the men needed her and she had to get to them. She would not even allow her mind to consider _which_ man. That would only cause her to panic and they needed her to remain calm. She was usually the only one who could in such situations.

"Oh and look. A bath. And it's not even August yet!" He said, astounded. "Rashid? Who is Rashid?" He asked.

"He is the—_Much_!" She snapped, coming back to herself. "We do not have time for this! What has happened? Tell me, please! Who is injured? And where? I haven't any of my supplies on me. Let us go now. Quickly. You can explain on the way." And she pushed him back toward the window.

"Oh. Okay. Wait. _Where_ are we going?"

"Don't you know?" She stared at him, a panic growing inside of her.

Just then Robin's grinning face appeared at the window. "Hey there, Djaq! Sorry about that. I wanted to catch a moment with Marian. She's staying in the castle as well." And he climbed through the window, noticing the confusion written on her face.

"Wait. So nothing is wrong? No one is hurt?" She held her breath, not quite ready to relax until she'd heard his answer.

"Not that I know of. What about you? Are you alright?" He asked her seriously.

"Yes. I am fine. You just scared me. I thought that Much was here to tell me that someone was hurt." And she exhaled deeply.

"What? Oh no. Everything is fine." Robin told her. "We just came to check on you. You know, you got me into quite a bit of trouble with the lads. They cannot forgive me for going along with you staying here." He said, cocking his head and raising his eyebrows at her.

"Sorry. But it was well worth it, as you will hear. Sit down." She told him, immediately remembering all that she had intended to share with him in the morning.

"Oh?" And he took a seat and prepared himself to listen to whatever minor morsels of information she had managed to get out of this Saracen fellow since he had last seen her.

As she told him what she had learned, however, his indulgent look slowly made way for a look of pure astonishment.

"How did you get all of that already, Djaq?" He asked in wonder once she had finished.

"He told me. I tried to tell you during the party that I believed he wanted to confide in me. He is in way over his head, Robin, and he knows it. He just has no idea what to do or where to turn. I have told him nothing of you or our cause, but I did tell him that I knew a man who could help him and also keep him safe. He really does want peace in the Holy Land. I truly believe that. He needs our help. And we need his if we are to get our hands on this money and stop his father and Prince John from what they are trying to accomplish." She concluded.

"You trust this Saracen?" Much asked with skepticism and a hint of disgust, the latter of which she chose to ignore.

"Shh. Keep your voice down, Much. And yes, I do." She replied. "He is not a political man. He has no talent for this kind of life. He cares about astronomy and books. He is no soldier, nor is he a statesman. He is here as a pawn of his father, nothing more." She told them.

"Tell me about his father." Robin said.

"Basil abd-al-Muhaymin ibn Azhar ibn Ghalib al-Filistini is a man I would _never_ trust. He is ruthless and corrupt and he would stop at nothing to get what he wanted. And right now, what he wants and _needs_ is for the war to continue. Indefinitely, if he can manage it. I believe that he would spend his very last coin in pursuit of his goal, knowing that, as the Sultan's favored general during times of war, he would recover his losses _easily_. Not to mention the considerable power he would continue to wield."

As Robin continued to ask questions and listen to her explanations, a plan was slowly forming in his head. Once he was satisfied that he had enough information, he said, "Thank you, Djaq. After all of these months of wondering and worrying, we finally have, not only sound information, but some direction and some hope. Great job. Please tell this Rashid that I would like to meet with him as soon as possible. Not at the camp though. Perhaps here in the castle. I would like for you to translate for us, though. We cannot risk exposing ourselves to his translator."

"You know that I would never take him to the camp, Robin. And he actually confided to me that he does understand and speak a small amount of English, he just pretends not to because it adds extra time and confusion to the negotiations. But he will still need someone he trusts to explain everything. So I will gladly do it. I will inform him in the morning. How much should I tell him?"

"As much as you feel comfortable with. I trust your judgment." He answered.

"I will come to the camp tomorrow in order to let you know when and where the two of you can meet." She told him.

"Alright then. Goodnight, Djaq. Please, be careful" He said seriously.

"I am always careful." She said with a smile.

Robin laughed, recognizing his own familiar line. Then, turning to Much who was admiring the different vials of salts and oils that had been laid out near the bath, he said, "Come on, Much. Djaq needs her rest and we have taken up enough of her evening."

"What? No. Djaq is coming back with _us_." He insisted.

"No, my friend." He told him, winking at Djaq. "Djaq will return when she is ready. For now, she is visiting with an old friend. But we will see her tomorrow. Do not be concerned. She is very capable of handling herself, I assure you."

And with that, he made his way back out the window with a confused and whining Much following closely behind.

"Bye, Djaq." Much muttered dejectedly as he went. "I don't understand this. She could come back with us and then visit with her friend tomorrow, Robin."

"Good night, Much. And try to be quiet." She whispered with a smile as she closed and rebolted the shutters.

Just as she climbed back into bed and got her head settled just right on the fluffy pillow, she heard the familiar _tap tap tap_ once again. So she got up and practically stomped over to the window, pulling back the curtains, unbolting the shutters and throwing them open. _What now? _She thought as she readied herself to look into the face of either Much or Robin.

Instead, she was met with the beautiful eyes of Will Scarlett.


	14. Expectations

**RECAP:** _Just as Djaq climbed back into bed and got her head settled just right on the fluffy pillow, she heard the familiar tap tap tap once again. So she got up and practically stomped over to the window, pulling back the curtains, unbolting the shutters and throwing them open. What now? She thought as she readied herself to look into the face of either Much or Robin. _

_Instead, she was met with the beautiful eyes of Will Scarlett._

******Expectations**

"Hello, Djaq." He said softly, making her nearly melt inside. "I wasn't sure which room was yours so I followed Robin here. I hope that's alright. I saw him and Much leave and I wanted to catch you before you went to bed. I want to ask you something."

"Uh...yes, of course. Come inside." She was shaken over seeing him at her widow and she suddenly found it very hard to breathe. He was, in fact, the last person she'd expected to see.

"No. I won't stay. I just wanted to know if you would go on a walk with me tomorrow?" He asked hopefully as he shifted nervously at the widow. "We can gather herbs or just walk or whatever you want. We can even take a chaperone with us. Maybe Allan or Much or even John could--"

"Will, we do not need a chaperone. That is just silly." What on earth was this new twist? She really didn't know what to say.

A day ago, she would have jumped at the chance to be alone with him. On a walk or anywhere else. But their last conversation had been hurtful and humiliating for both of them and she didn't feel quite ready to repeat that experience. She had hoped to have some time away from him to sort things out. But, being with him would be so nice. She was torn.

"I just want you to be comfortable." He said quietly, giving her a sad half smile. "But, please. Don't answer yet. Please just think about it for tonight. That's all I ask. I'll stay at camp all day tomorrow. If you come, great. If not...it's okay. 'Night, Djaq. Sleep well."

And before she could respond, before she could ask what his sudden change in behavior was all about, before she'd even had time to _think_, he was gone, into the night. She had half a mind to shout for him to come back, to come inside, to stay with her. But she knew that yelling out one of the castle windows wouldn't be the most intelligent thing to do right now. So, after standing there for a moment, just staring into the darkness, she closed the shutters and made her way back over to the bed. She doubted she'd ever be able to sleep now.

There was really no way that she could refuse to go for a walk with him tomorrow. It had obviously taken a lot of courage for him to invite her and she didn't want to hurt his feelings or make him feel that she was still angry over what had happened. She wasn't. Besides, she had been waiting for something like this from him for months now. Although, after what had taken place earlier between them, it was the last thing she would have expected.

But she had no interest in a repeat of the awkwardness that they had gone through earlier. And she wasn't sure what she could or couldn't say to him anymore. Or how she should behave. She had no desire to push him further away from her.

She had to go to the camp in the morning anyway in order to meet with Robin about when and where they could meet with Rashid. So she supposed that she and Will could go for a short walk once she had done so. Maybe she could just follow his lead. Let _him_ set the pace and direction of things. She certainly did not wish to scare him off. So maybe they could just take things as slowly as he wanted. She could certainly try. And maybe, in time, they could reach a place that both were comfortable with. Maybe.

Knowing that she would never get to sleep with so much playing on her mind, she turned her attention to what Robin had told her about Rashid. He'd said that he trusted her to decide how much was appropriate to reveal. Hearing him say that meant more to her than she would have imagined. She knew that he rarely relinquished control of their plans. Although, in this case, he probably recognized that he had no choice, seeing as she was the one with the inside track. But still, to hear that he had faith in her gave her a sense of satisfaction and pride she had not realized she'd been missing.

But now she had to determine just how much she _would_ reveal. Not only regarding Robin and his work to bring down the Sheriff and Prince John, but also how much she was comfortable disclosing about _herself_. How much would Rashid be open to hearing? Would he still trust her if he knew how she had been living since being brought to England? Living with men, fighting. Would he find her behavior so disgraceful that he would turn from their purpose and refuse to participate in Robin's plans?

After all, she had broken the rules of what a decent Muslim woman ought to do more times than she could count. She had defied convention when, in her grief and despair, she had ruthlessly hacked off her long, silky black locks and gone off to fight in a war that she did not even believe in. But that was nothing compared to her behavior since joining Robin in the forest. She had lived with those men for nearly two years. Fighting by their side. Sharing their meals. Even sleeping curled up with them on the coldest nights, back before they had moved into their camp.

And now she had married one of them and was carrying his child. How would Rashid react to such news. Would he label her a traitor to her own people? That would be ironic, considering he was the one here to carry on the war that had killed so many. But Djaq knew very well that the behavior of women was always scrutinized more carefully than that of any man and, although she refused to feel ashamed of the way she had chosen to live her life, she did not want to risk jeopardizing peace in her homeland.

But she would have to give Rashid some explanation as to her association with Robin. She would have to be able to offer him assurances that Robin's motivations were pure and his intentions were honorable. That he was, indeed, a man of peace and loyalty. How could she do that without revealing how well she knew Robin and that she trusted him with her life?

Surprisingly, after turning her thoughts over and over in her mind, Djaq had finally been able to get a few hours of much-needed sleep. So by the time that a servant had brought her some breakfast and a change of clothes just after dawn, she felt that she had at least some semblance of a plan for dealing with the Rashid situation.

"_Will you tell your master that I wish to speak with him as soon as he has a unoccupied moment, please?_" She addressed the girl in Arabic.

"_Of course. Right away, My Lady. The Master wished me to inform you that he has placed me at your __disposal. I have taken up the room next to yours and you are to call on me anytime, day or night, for all of your needs._" The young woman explained to her.

"_I see. That was very kind of him. Thank you. What is your name?_"

" _Aminah, My Lady._"

"_Thank you, Aminah_."

"_Yes, My Lady._" And she bowed before silently exiting.

Djaq was, of course, no stranger to servants. In fact, her family had employed quite a large household staff and she had always taken for granted the respect that they paid her for most of her life. Even when she was living and fighting on the battle fields at home she had always thought that, if she lived through the war, she might one day return to her former life of luxury.

But now, after living in the forest and being accepted as an equal by Robin and the others, and after seeing how hard most of the peasants worked just to afford bread for their children, she felt extremely awkward about being treated in such a way.

Her fellow outlaws had welcomed her into their group and shared what meager food and blankets they had with her, without any knowledge of her lineage or former wealth. All they asked of her was loyalty and that she add whatever skills she possessed to their cause. So now, after being respected for herself and what she had to offer, the hollow deference that servants pay to their 'betters' seemed foolish and wrong somehow.

Still, the young woman would be insulted if she were asked not to behave in that manner. She would feel that she had done something wrong and had somehow offended Djaq. Djaq did not want that, so she smiled and accepted the honor without comment. She then proceeded to wash and change her robes in order to greet Rashid when he arrived. After nearly three-quarters of an hour, there was a knock at her chamber door.

"_Enter._" She said pleasantly. "_Good morning, Rashid._" She greeted once he had entered and closed the door behind him.

"_Good morning, Saffiya._" He responded cheerfully. "_Aminah_ _said that you wished to see me?_"

"_I wish to speak with you about some rather delicate matters._" She began. It was her intention to tell him a bit about Robin and then allow his reaction to dictate how much more she revealed. Then, if all went well, she would employ the same tactic regarding her own secrets. "_Will you not sit down?_"

Over two hours later, after removing her Saracen robes in favor of her regular attire and sneaking past the Sheriff's guards on her way out of the castle, she swung open the camp entrance only to find it empty. Today was not a delivery day, so she assumed that the forest alarm had probably alerted them to travelers on the road and they had gone out to 'greet' them. Either that or something had happened. But the camp and the surrounding area looked undisturbed, so she decided to wait at least an hour before starting to worry.

She placed the basket she had been carrying in Much's kitchen and sat down at her medical station in order to sort through her herbs to see if any of her supplies were running low. After a short while, she heard the hatch swing open and the unruly voices of the gang.

"Djaq! Thank goodness! I was _so_ worried!" Much exclaimed as soon as he saw her sitting there. He ran up to her and enveloped her in a big hug.

"You just saw me last night!" She said, laughing.

"Well, look who's here. See, I told you she'd be around some time this morning, safe and sound." Robin said to the others as they filed in behind him. Turning back toward Djaq, he said "Good morning. _They_ were worried." He didn't let on that he was just the slightest bit worried himself.

"Yes, so Much tells me." She answered, smiling. She couldn't get over how happy she felt all of a sudden. Being at the camp, with her friends, felt so right. It was where she belonged and even though she had only been away for one night, she had missed them all terribly. Of course, there was no reason to let _them_ know that. Better to let them think she hated that they'd worried over her. She did hate it, but it was also rather comforting, in a way.

"'Morning, Djaq." Will greeted. He was not surprised to see her, as Robin had said that she would be coming around this morning, but Will still had no idea whether or not she would consent to spending some time with him today. He didn't want to put her on the spot by bringing it up in front of everyone, though, so he decided to just wait until after she and Robin had discussed their plans and see if she would say anything about it.

"Good morning." She answered him. "As soon as Robin is done with me, I am ready to go. If you are." She told him with a smile. She thought that it would be terribly unfair to make him wait for an answer to his invitation until after she and Robin had talked. Her heart thudded loudly in her chest at the absolutely beautiful and happy grin that spread across his face as he nodded at her in response.

"Welcome back." John told her, smiling at the unmistakable first step that the two young lovers had just shared.

"You all talk as if I was away for a month rather than a night." She laughed.

"What can we say? We've grown used to your face around here. Besides, Much did nothing but whine about you all night." Allan told her. "But I can see why you'd want to hurry back to the forest. Much told us about the terrible conditions you were forced to endure. Big soft bed, a bath, fancy furniture, a big room all to yourself. I'm sorry you had to go through all that."

She smiled, shaking her head.

"I do _not_ whine! What's _this_?" Much cried, spotting the basket she had brought with her.

"_That_ is courtesy of the Sheriff." She told him and watched with amusement as his eyes grew wider and wider while he unpacked its contents.

"Eggs? There must be at least ten, no _twelve_, of them here! And bread. Ooh, fresh baked this morning too." He informed them all after giving both loaves a sniff.

"How can you tell that?" John asked him.

"Smells fresh-baked. I have a good nose for food." Much answered. "And what is this?" He asked, reaching into the bottom of the basket.

"Bacon." Djaq told him.

"Mmm. Bacon." Much said, practically drooling. He _loved_ bacon. _And_ eggs. _And_ bread. Mmm. "You don't even eat bacon, Djaq. How did you get all of this?" He asked her.

"I told you. It is courtesy of the Sheriff. I had Aminah bring it to me from the Sheriff's kitchen this morning so that I could bring it here. I told her to ask the Sheriff's cook for some of whatever he was being served for breakfast. His people have been given strict orders to give Rashid whatever he wants. Prince John wants him happy and Rashid is very kind and likes it when _I_ am happy. And _I_ like it when _your_ stomach is full. You complain much less." She said teasingly to Much.

"I do _not_ complain! But thank you." He replied.

"Thank the Sheriff." She laughed.

"Who is Aminah?" Robin asked.

"She is my--" She had been on the verge of referring to her as her servant, but she caught herself. That would be awkward, to say the least. "She is a servant that Rashid asked to look after me."

Robin merely raised his eyebrows at her. "So, did you speak with him? Did you tell him about us... about me?"

"I did." She sighed quietly, but it did not go unnoticed by Will.

"What's wrong, Djaq?" He asked her. He hated when she was troubled. And she looked so tired, too. He hoped that she wasn't feeling too pressured to live up to Robin's expectations.

"Nothing. It is only..." She thought over her conversation with Rashid earlier that morning. It had been rather difficult convincing him that Robin was a good man who could be trusted, and doing so had brought up some rather unpleasant thoughts for her...things about herself that she usually kept well buried. But she would not trouble the others with such matters.

"What?" Robin prompted.

"It's fine, really. It was just that he took a bit of convincing once I told him who you were, that is all. He had heard of you while in London."

"Oh? Good to know my reputation now stretches as far as London." He grinned mischievously.

"It really is not funny, Robin. Prince John warned him about you before he made his journey here. Rashid believed you to be a blood-thirsty Crusader who kills unsuspecting women and children as they travel through the forest. He was told that you rob your own people so that you and your men, your _wild_ men is what he called us, can drink and carouse and wreak havoc throughout the land. It was not easy to convince him that you are a good man who cares about peace and justice. You should not look so very pleased with yourself." She scolded him.

"Of course. I'm sorry, Djaq." He said, trying to hide his grin. "Will he meet with us though?"

"Yes, tonight. After most of the castle's occupants have gone to bed for the night. We can meet in my room. Is that alright?" She asked.

"_Your_ room?" Allan asked incredulously. "It's _your_ room now, is it? You're not planning on staying there again are you?"

"Djaq, no." John said firmly.

They all looked at her. "Well, I don't know." She bit her lower lip. "I wanted to know what you wanted me to do, Robin. Rashid said that the room is mine for as long as he stays in Nottingham, whether I sleep there or not. He is trying to be kind to me. But I think that he also feels more at ease knowing that I am there."

"Well _we_ feel more at ease knowing that you are _here_!" Much countered.

"So do I, Much. Believe me. I do not wish to be away from here but--"

"Then don't." Will said simply, looking her directly in the eyes. He didn't want her in constant danger. Even more than they usually were. Plus, he couldn't stand not having her near. He had not been able to sleep at all last night knowing that she was not in her bunk. The entire camp seemed wrong, somehow, without her.

He found that he couldn't even remember what life had been like for the outlaws before she came. It was unfair to poor Roy, he knew, but he couldn't help it. She had become a part of everything he knew. The trees, the forest, the rain, the villages. Although _she_ was actually the foreigner, it was as if it had all been built up around _her_. Like she, his beautiful and fiery love from so very far away, was the only reason that any of it existed at all. And for him it was.

"It is not that simple, Will." She answered quietly. She knew that Will was always very considerate of her and would never say something like that unless he felt very strongly about it. That made her heavyhearted. She did not want him to be unhappy or to worry about her. But she wanted to do what was best.

"Rashid is not very skilled at deception." She continued. "He has no talent for pulling off _anything_ like this. I am worried that he will not be able to do his part if I am not around. I suppose I _could_ just go there every day and speak with him and make certain that everything is going smoothly."

"But?" Robin asked, sensing her hesitation. He did not want Djaq in danger any more than the others, but he trusted her judgment and wanted to hear her thoughts.

"Well, I am concerned about him being strong enough for this. And he looks to me as a lifeline. If I am not there at some point when he needs to be reassured, then I fear that he will weaken. It is not that I believe him to be a coward, exactly, but he has spent a lifetime hiding from his father's wrath. That is a hard habit to break. So I honestly do not know what to do." And she looked at them all, wondering what they would say.

"Do you believe that you can be safe there? This man is a relative of yours, right? Surely he must be concerned with your safety. Does he understand that you must avoid detection by the Sheriff?" Robin asked.

"I have explained it to him, yes. I believe that what he says is true. That the Sheriff will not notice one extra Saracen. Besides, Rashid keeps only his own people in his particular wing of the castle. So I believe that I am as safe as can be expected. And he is not exactly family to me, but my safety seems to be important to him."

"Yeah, that reminds me." Allan began. "You thought I was pretty stupid for saying you might know this guy before we found out who he was. 'All Saracens don't know each other, Allan.' Remember that? I'm not so stupid now, am I?"

She laughed. "No, I suppose not."

"But I thought you were related." Robin said.

"Only by marriage. His father's third wife is a cousin on my mother's side. But she is not Rashid's mother, so we have no blood relationship. Still, he thinks of me as a sister. In fact that is what he calls me..._sister_." She answered.

"How many wives does his father _have_?" Allan asked, astonished.

"He had four the last I knew, but Rashid told me last night that he now has six. One died, though, so it would actually be seven had she lived." She noticed the confused looks on most of their faces. "In my culture, a man may have as many wives as he can reasonably take care of. Some wealthy men have many wives. Of course, many men prefer to have only one." She explained.

"We should have that here." Allan grinned cheekily.

"You don't even have a wife, Allan. Why would you care about having seven?" Will asked him, laughing.

"I don't know. Marriage might not be so bad that way. You'd never have to worry about getting bored. You know, plenty of variety." He grinned even wider while the others just shook their heads.

"You must have been close then, if he calls you his sister." Much observed, choosing to ignore Allan's comments, as he got out his frying pan and spoon.

"Not _so_ close, really. At least not to me. But I believe that he felt more of an attachment to us, to my brother and me, than we ever felt for him. We liked him alright, but it was nothing special. We saw him at weddings and feasts and the like. And he spent time at our home sometimes when his father was home from the fighting. He had a great fear of his father so he avoided him as much as he could. And he felt free to be himself at our house. So I think that he dwells on those times much more than I do. For me, everyday was like that. Free and happy. For him, it was an escape. He thinks of me as family, though, and he would not place me in danger."

"I do not want you putting yourself at any extra risk just because you think I expect it of you, Djaq. No mission or amount of money is worth your life. Do you understand?" Robin asked her seriously. He hadn't realized until last night that he'd taken her for granted. Probably more than the other men, and he wanted her to know she was valuable and important to him.

Djaq noticed that the men all looked immensely relieved at Robin's words. As if they expected her to run out and place herself in danger just to impress their leader. "You cannot seriously believe that I would place my baby in danger! Because I would _not_. Not at _any_ cost. Not for a mission, not for peace, not even for _you_, Robin. The life and safety of this child is the most important thing in the world to me and I would not do anything to jeopardize it." She said heatedly, looking pointedly at all of them.

They in turn just stared at her, making her feel very exposed all of a sudden. She was immediately aware that it was the first time that she had spoken aloud about the baby and she guessed that they must be aware of it as well, given their reaction to her words. She did not know that she she had been so obvious in her neglect of her child up until that point. She was saddened by the realization that they must not have considered her baby's safety a priority to her.

Will was the first to speak. "Of course you wouldn't. No one is saying that. We just want you to be safe. You're very brave, and I sometimes think that you're _too_ brave. So we worry. But nobody thinks you're foolish or reckless. We know you're careful." He gave her a small smile, hoping she understood what he was trying to say and was not offended. To his great relief, she returned his smile with one of her own.

"Does he...this Rashid guy...does he know about you? That you're pregnant?" Allan asked her.

"No. He hasn't seen me in a very long time, so he can't tell by looking at me. And I have not told him. I was going to tell him this morning. When I explained about taking my brother's identity and being a soldier, and now living here with all of you, he was not as judgmental as I feared he might be, but I decided that it might be better not to confide in him about the child." She answered, biting her lower lip. She wondered what Will would think about that.

"Why?" Much wondered.

"As I told you, he relies on me. He is completely out of his comfort zone in dealing with political intrigue. So he seems to trust my judgment and depend on my ability to handle difficult situations. We cannot afford to lose that hold on him. Being a married woman, and a pregnant one at that, makes me more...." She paused, searching for the right way to express what she meant.

"Female." Robin finished for her. And for the first time he realized how difficult Djaq's life must be. She was smart and strong and sensible, but if she allowed herself to be viewed as too much of a woman, she would never be taken seriously. No wonder she had made the choices she had.

"Yes, exactly. More female." She said gratefully. She was glad that he, at least, seemed to understand.

"He knows you're a woman. So what's the big deal?" Allan asked.

"Our Djaq is a very confident and tough young woman. We have all seen that. It's easy to forget that she isn't one of the lads, sometimes. I'm sorry Djaq. I don't mean that the way it sounds." Robin told her.

"Don't be sorry." She laughed. "I have worked hard to be accepted as one of the lads." How could he think that would offend her?

He smiled, before continuing to address the others. "It's possible that Rashid will be less inclined to have complete confidence in her if he thinks of her as decidedly..._feminine_." Robin offered.

"That's stupid." Much put in.

"I agree." Said John, looking at Djaq.

"So do I, lads. But it's the way of the world. He may not even do it purposely, but Djaq is right, we have to be very careful to keep his trust in her. Without her influence, we have no pull with him. And that makes our plan much more difficult and dangerous."

"I suppose that makes sense. Sort of." Allan said.

"Why don't we meet with this man tonight and then we can decide about you staying there. Okay, Djaq?" Robin offered and everyone nodded. "Much, what are you doing?" He asked suddenly, as he spotted Much cracking eggs into a pan.

"What does it look like? I'm making breakfast." He answered.

"We already _had_ breakfast, Much!" Robin exclaimed. "You cannot seriously tell me that you're hungry again already."

"That one's always hungry." John said waving his hand in Much's direction.

"Call it lunch, then." Much responded, unconcerned.

"We just ate breakfast like an hour and a half ago, Much. And it's way too _early_ for lunch." Will told him.

"But Djaq wasn't here for breakfast, and she brought all of this food. Besides, this is much better than what _we_ had." And he continued to crack eggs into the pan.

"Actually, Much, I had breakfast early this morning." She said. She was too embarrassed to admit that, although she had already eaten, she would not be opposed to some eggs. She had a much bigger appetite lately.

"But you can eat again. You're eating for _two_, remember. And you like my eggs. Actually, that's another reason that you should stay here rather than the castle. Only I know how to make eggs the way you like them." He said proudly.

"Alright. Thank you, Much. I will eat eggs." He grinned broadly, making her do the same.

"Anyone else care to join us?" Much asked the group.

They did not. So Djaq enjoyed her bowl of eggs while Much ate his with bacon, and half a loaf of bread.

"So are you going somewhere today, Djaq? You mentioned something to Will when we came in." Robin asked her while shaking his head at the amount of food Much was able to consume without getting sick.

He tried to remember if Much had always been so obsessed with food, or if it had only begun while they were in the Holy Land. He wasn't sure because he honestly hadn't paid him very much attention before that.

"Will and I are going to collect herbs. Did you need me for something?"

"No no. You go ahead. I was just wondering." He answered and he couldn't help but notice Will's relieved look.

Robin was glad they were going to spend time together. Maybe she could get Will back on track. He'd been very distracted lately and had been away from camp much more often than usual. Robin had wanted to speak with him about it but was conscious of the delicate situation he and Djaq found themselves in. So he hadn't wanted to make things worse. Maybe this would be just what Will needed. Robin hoped so. Now was not the time for distractions.

"So where were you when I got here?" Djaq asked the men.

"Travelers on the road." Will answered, trying not to be too obvious about watching her eat.

"Ah. I figured. Anything good?" She asked him.

"Few coins." He answered.

"Are you ready?" She asked him as she finished the last of her eggs.

"Mm hm. Do you need your pouch?" He asked her. He could barely contain his excitement at the prospect of starting over with the woman he so dearly loved. He just had to keep reminding himself not to pressure her.

"I have it." She said standing up and patting her waist where her herb pouch was strapped beneath her long shirt. She was still not at all sure what to expect from today, but she was happier than she had been in a very long time. She just had to remind herself to let _him_ set the tone of everything. She didn't want to scare him off just when he'd finally reached out to her.

"Let's go, then." He said happily, catching John's knowing smile as they made their way out.

"Robin, I'll return to the castle later and you can just meet me in my room tonight. Okay? Unless you need me for something here." She said.

"No. That's fine. I'll see you tonight." He told her as she and Will exited.


	15. Time Well Spent

******Time Well Spent**

"I'm glad you came." Will said shyly to Djaq as soon as they departed from the camp.

"I must warn you. You may be cursing me soon enough. " She said with a laugh.

"Why?" He loved her laugh. It was infectious. He loved the way that her dark eyes sparkled when she was happy. And he especially loved the fact that she was happy _today_.

"I am afraid that we will have to stop several times along the way." She explained.

"Why? Oh...right." He remembered that she had to relieve herself somewhat frequently these days and he blushed the littlest bit, although he had no idea why. Their daily lives offered little privacy when it came to such matters, living in such close quarters as they did, and it was nowhere near the first time that such a thing had come up between them. "Um, no problem. I don't mind."

"We'll see if you still say that after the third or fourth time." And she laughed again. She chanced a sideways glance over at him as they walked. He was _so_ incredibly beautiful. He really was. Not just good-looking or handsome the way that some men were, but truly and breathtakingly beautiful. She wondered if their child would look like him. Have his eyes, his chin, his nose? His long fingers and soft brown hair? She hoped so.

Will could feel her eyes on him as they walked on. Those were the kinds of looks that made his head spin. If he wasn't careful, he could almost convince himself that he saw something—affection? longing? love?—in her eyes. He felt his heart skip and he had to remind himself _not_ to read anything into it. She just had no idea of the effect she had on him.

"So, what herbs do you need?" He asked, trying to draw his mind away from such thoughts.

He had accompanied her while she gathered herbs on many occasions, and those had always been some of the best times he'd ever had. Of course, it had been several months since he had done so. But now here they were, just like old times.

Almost.

He had been so excited when she'd been so willing to take a chance on coming out alone with him today. He had worried that, after everything that had taken place between them yesterday, she might be unwilling to risk such a step. But now that he was with her and she was so cheerful, he began to feel a little uncertain. What if he said or did something to ruin everything?

"I really only need columbine seeds." She replied. "The plant only flowers for a very short time and I do not want to miss my chance to get some."

"Where does it grow?" He asked, trying hard to hide the disappointment from his voice. If she only needed that one thing, their time together would be very short. As soon as she located what she needed and they had gathered enough of it, she'd be ready to head back to the castle. He hated the thought of that.

"I found a patch a few weeks ago when I was collecting herbs with Marian, but the seeds were not yet ripened. Maybe they are ready now. It was this way." And she reached for his arm in order to steer him in the direction she needed to go. It was the type of friendly gesture that had passed between them a hundred times, at least. But she quickly withdrew her hand and reminded herself that such intimacies were now off limits.

He was painfully aware of how quickly she had pulled away from him. As if she'd been burned. It hurt him but he understood. She was probably as unsure as he was. What would be taken as innocent friendliness? And what might be considered too familiar? He wished things could just be easy between them again. Like they always used to be.

"So, when are you going into Locksley again? To work with the women?" He asked her, finally settling on a safe subject.

"I would like to go as soon as I am able. It has been a couple of weeks since I have had the extra time to really spend there and I miss it, to be honest. And now there are some things that I would like to ask Mathilda. Plus, I promised to show Bessie some additional uses for comfrey whenever I get a chance." She paused for a breath, feeling a bit like Much when he rambled on. "But I do not know if I will be able to do so until after this whole business with Robin and Rashid is finished. I need to focus all of my attention on this mission."

"You seem to enjoy it. Working with the women, I mean. I'm glad." He told her with a smile.

"Yes. They have all been very kind to me. I had no idea that they were so wise."

"That's why they're called _wise_ women." He chuckled, making her blush. "And of course they're nice to you. Why wouldn't they be?" He asked, confused.

"I don't know. No reason. I was just surprised by their generosity in sharing their craft with me." She wondered if he was aware that he was valued so highly in Locksley? That the people there embraced her now, at least initially, because of how much they care for him? Probably not. He was far too humble.

"My mum used to help out with that sort of thing from time to time." He told her.

"With midwifery?" She asked him.

"Yeah. When somebody was ready to deliver, she would assist or whatever. Sometimes." _Before she had gotten too weak from hunger to do much of anything. _He thought, with a mixture of sadness and bitterness he had no wish to feel today. So he pushed such thoughts aside.

"I did not know that." She said quietly, having seen the dark look that passed over his face and wanting nothing so much as to hold him in her arms and comfort him. She, too, knew the pain of losing a parent. But she couldn't even reach out to him without risking the awkwardness of yesterday. "They all speak very highly of her though. _All_ of the women do. They say how kind and generous she was to everyone. That there was no better woman ever."

He nodded.

"She sounds wonderful. I wish I could have known her." She said sincerely. Any woman who had created and raised the man walking beside her had to be extraordinary.

"Me too. She would have loved you." He said softly.

Without meaning to, she gave him a doubtful look. Surely Will's mother would have rather he married some sweet and pretty village maiden. Someone who shared their faith and background.

"Really." Was all he said, making her heart race and her cheeks burn.

And he was certain of it. His mother would have loved Djaq almost as much as he did. She would have seen all of the amazing qualities she possessed and how much Will loved and adored her, and she'd have been happy for him.

And he couldn't help but think of how different things would have been. His mother would have taken an instant liking to Djaq and would have openly embraced her as a member of the family. Then, at least, Will would have felt like he had _something _to offer her. Even if it wasn't money or status, he could have given her stability and security. The love of a family.

"There." She said suddenly, as they approached a patch of overgrowth. "See the tall skinny stalks with the bluish flowers? I need to cut the seeds out." And she pulled out two small knives and her pouch.

Will was relieved at the change in subject. He didn't want to push her too far or say anything that might make her uncomfortable. "Okay. What should I do?" He asked as she handed him a knife. "Just snip them out like we've done with other flowers?"

"Yes, the same. But we must try not to crush them. Just gently cut them out from the blossom and place them here." And she spread out a square of cloth that she had pulled from her pouch.

As the two of them set to work, they were completely unaware of being the main topic of conversation back at the camp.

"So what do you suppose _that_ was about?" Much asked no one in particular shortly after Will and Djaq had gone.

"What?" Robin wondered.

"Will and Djaq. That's what. Going out for herbs just like the old days." Much answered.

"_Gossip_, I do not like!" John said, shaking his head.

"Well I say it's about bloody _time_ they got back together." Allan said.

"Back together? They're married. That means they're stuck with each other." Much told him.

"You're quite the romantic, Much." Robin said, rolling his eyes. "But we shouldn't read too much into it. They're only collecting herbs, after all. But I agree, it's about time. There's a lot to focus on these days and Will's been way too distracted."

"The lad's just finding his way, is all." John told them.

"Maybe this'll be just what he needs, then." Robin mused. "Come to think of it, maybe it's what they both need. I guess Djaq's had a tough time lately too. Maybe we've been unfair to them."

"Us? How?" Much asked.

"We all keep acting as if nothing has changed around here. We ignore the tension and we act like everything's alright. Maybe that makes it harder for them to adjust to being together and still being part of the group."

"_That's_ what I've been trying to say for months now! But would anybody listen to me?" Allan complained.

"Well what are we suppose to do? You said to stay out of it, Robin. And Will said to treat Djaq the same way we always have. That's what we've been doing, isn't it?" Much said.

"I was just thinking that maybe we could do a better job of letting them know that we're here for them and the baby. After all, that baby is going to be almost as much a part of our lives as it is theirs. As long as we're still outlaws and living together, at least. So they should know they're not alone. That we care." Robin offered.

"_'Course_ we care." Allan said.

"What we _should_ do is stay out of it and let them find their own way. They don't need us making it harder for them." John said firmly.

"I'm not talking about interfering, John. Just, maybe not _ignoring_ the situation. Let's talk openly about the baby and then maybe they'll feel like they can too. That's all." Robin answered.

"She was pretty _open_ about it today, wasn't she? In fact, she kinda told you off, Robin." Allan laughed.

"Yeah. She sure didn't appreciate what you said to her. She let you have it good." Much laughed too.

"_Excuse me_, but I believe she directed her statements to _all_ of us! She was certainly not speaking only to _me_. And I don't think she was mad, exactly. She just wanted us to know that she's being extra careful. Besides, Allan, _you're_ the one who put the idea in my head about her not wanting to talk or think about the baby in the first place!" Robin huffed.

"That's right. You're the one who's always worrying about _her_, and _Will_, and _the baby_! You shouldn't be such a worrier, Allan." Much chided.

"_I_ shouldn't be such a worrier?" Allan said, shaking his head. "You've got to be kidding."

Meanwhile, back in the forest, Djaq was carefully folding the strip of cloth containing all of the seeds they'd managed to collect. "There." She said, slipping the cloth into her pouch and securing it at her waist. "That is a good amount, I think."

"So what will you do with them?" He asked her. Besides being genuinely curious, he was regretting that they were finished and wanted to prolong their time together at least a little.

"First I have to set them out to dry and then I will crush them." She answered, standing up and stretching. Will always asked her so many questions when they were alone together. She loved that about him. He had always been that way with her, even in the beginning. He would ask her about Acre, herbs, medicine, alchemy, her language, other languages, her religion. You name it.

The other outlaws always teased Will about being shy and quiet, but she knew better. He spoke whenever he had something to say. He didn't talk on endlessly the way that other people did. When he had nothing to contribute, he said nothing. When he was asked his opinion, he thought it over long and hard before offering it. Sometimes, when he was contemplating an answer, Djaq would watch his face because she loved to see the changes in expression as he mentally weighed the different options.

"Then what? What will you use them for?" He asked.

"They are helpful for delousing. You rub them on the scalp and they kill the lice." She responded, removing her sword from her belt and handing it to him.

"_Again_?" He laughed, taking the sword from her and forcing himself not to brush her hand with his own. It was the third time she had needed to excuse herself since they'd been here.

"Do not say that I did not warn you." She wagged her finger at him and smiled as she made her way behind a large tree.

The first time she'd had to go, she had left her sword on, but by the second time she had decided that it might be quicker and easier if she left it with Will while she relieved herself. It was hard to balance with it around her waist and, since he was only a few feet away, she felt perfectly safe without it. In fact, she felt better than safe. She felt completely happy. They'd had such a great time today chatting and laughing while they worked that it was almost like the old days.

Almost.

As Will waited for her, dreading the end of their walk, he thought about the day so far. He wondered why he had ever been so determined to avoid her for so long. He had been afraid that, if he spent too much time alone with her, he would only succeed in making them both unhappier. He had thought that he was protecting her from having to deal with his feelings for her, but he was really only making things worse. It had been so hard on him, not seeing her or enjoying her company, and it really hadn't eased the tension between them like he'd expected it to.

But now he knew that what he'd really needed was to be near her. He'd missed interacting with her so much that his heart had only ached for her more. He'd missed her voice and her laugh. He'd been so lonely without her. But they'd had such a great time together today that he was sure that this was exactly what he'd needed all along.

And it seemed to be what she'd needed too. All this time he'd been missing her, and she'd been right there, waiting for him. She must have been missing him too, in a different way of course, but missing him none the less. He wasn't foolish enough to believe that he could ever think of her as just a friend, but he could now see how he could love her and still be with her without any pressure.

That was what this walk had been about. He was so glad that he had taken John's advice. And even though it was about to be over for today, he felt certain that there would be other such days for them.

"We should go and wash up. Those seeds can be sticky." She said as she rejoined him, taking the weapon he held out to her.

He had forgotten about washing up. Maybe he could take his time and stretch the day out even further. But, of course, that was unfair. He should really just be happy for the time they'd spent. And he _was_. It had gone better than he could have imagined.

He just wished it didn't have to end so soon. But he would enjoy the rest of their time and simply keep reminding himself that there was always next time. He felt _certain_ that here would be a next time. She seemed so happy and everything had gone so smoothly.

"Do you mind very much if we sit by the stream for a bit after we wash our hands?" She asked him as they walked. "I am a bit tired all of a sudden. Unless you are ready to head back?"

"No." He said way too quickly, he was sure. "Of course we can rest. Whatever you want. Are you alright though?"

How selfish he was being. Thinking of ways to trick her into prolonging things when she was so tired. He should have realized. Poor Djaq. She _was_ pregnant, after all. And the sun was burning so hot today. But she probably didn't mind the heat at all. It probably reminded her of home. Still, she was tired and he wanted her to be comfortable.

"Yes, I am fine. Just a little tired." She smiled.

As they walked on, a silence fell between them, but it was not really awkward or unpleasant. They had spent a great deal of time together just _being_, before all of the confusion. Of course, they often talked. But there were many occasions when just walking or sitting together had been more than enough and each had felt comfortable enough to get lost in his or her own thoughts for a while.

They approached the stream and both knelt down to run their hands through the refreshingly cool water, splashing their faces and necks in order to cool off. "Do you want to rest over there?" He asked as they stood, nodding his head questioningly toward a spot nearby, where they could lean against a couple of trees in the shade.

As they sat down, facing one another, a few feet apart, Djaq said, "I cannot believe the day is half gone. I must return to the castle soon. I want to have a chance to observe and assess Rashid's servants before Robin comes tonight. There are so many of them and I want to find out which of them are spies for his father."

Will had known that the walk would have to end at some point, but he hated that she would be going back to the castle.

Djaq, seeing the worried look on his face, said, "Will, I want you to know that I meant what I said this morning. I would never put our child in danger."

Hearing her refer to the baby as 'our child' filled him with the strangest, most wonderful feeling. "Of course not. I know that, Djaq. I never thought you would."

"But, the thing is..." She had wanted to keep things light between them today. Everything had been going so well. But she felt like she had to make him understand that she _needed_ to be at the castle.

"What is it?" He asked, suddenly concerned. It was not like Djaq to be at a loss for words.

"I just do not want you to be worried if I stay at the castle." She said hesitantly.

"What?" He had been afraid that this was where she'd been taking the conversation. It was absolutely insane. What was she thinking? "Why would you _stay_ there, Djaq? Why? You heard what Robin said. He doesn't expect you to put yourself at risk."

"I do not do this for _Robin_!" She said heatedly.

"It's because of me...because of what happened yesterday." It wasn't a question. How could he ease her mind and let her know that she didn't have to worry? He would never touch her that way again.

"No. That has nothing to do with it." She answered firmly, looking him squarely in the eyes so he would know that she was being truthful.

Sure, she had originally thought that being away from him for a night in order to get some much-needed perspective on their difficulties would be a bonus to staying in the castle, but he seemed so different today, so much more at ease, that she wondered if things might not just work _themselves_ out.

"Why then, Djaq? I don't understand. If not for Robin, and not because of us, then _why_?" Why was this so important to her?

"For _peace_." She said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "These men plot for more than just power, Will. They plot to rob both of our countries of a peaceful end to this bloody war. They have to be stopped."

"And we _will_ stop them. But why do you feel that you have to _live_ _there_ in order to do it?"

"I already explained it to you. Rashid is scared and he is unprepared for something like this. I think that my constant presence will help to keep him focused and unshaken."

"I'm sure he doesn't need you to hold his hand _every_ _minute_,Djaq!" He raised his voice. He wasn't angry with her, just desperate. "He's gotten this far without you. Robin said he's been in London with Prince John for months. He didn't need your help _then_."

"That's because his big _plan_ consisted of simply avoiding the problem...having parties and living in luxury while people at home are dying!" She was practically shouting now. "_My_ people! I cannot allow that to continue, Will! I have to do all that I can to put an end to this war once and for all!"

"I'm sorry." He said gently. "Of course you want peace for your people. So do I." Up until that moment, he had been thinking mostly of how beneficial the money they would steal from Prince John would be to the people of Nottingham. He had completely forgotten how personal this was for Djaq. He felt like an idiot. An _inconsiderate_ idiot.

"Then you will not object?" She asked hopefully. If he would agree to this then she could stay there without guilt.

"To you _sleeping_ there? Of _course_ I object!" He paused for a moment. "But that doesn't really matter, does it?" He asked quietly.

He knew how stubborn she could be when something was important to her. And as long as Robin gave her his permission, it wouldn't matter to her what Will said. He was completely powerless to do anything but stand by and watch as the two people he loved most in the world, Djaq and their baby, were placed in danger. "You're going to do whatever you want no matter what I say. There's nothing I can do about it."

"No. You are wrong. I will not do it if you do not agree." She said in a small and defeated voice, looking away from him. She could not do that to him. She could not put him through the pain of constantly worrying about his child. He had lost almost as much of his family as she had, so to not honor his wishes in this matter would be cruel.

"Really?" He searched her face to see if she were being flippant, as she often was. There had been many times when he, Djaq, and Allan had been talking or joking and Will had ended up completely lost in the midst of their banter. She was clever and had a quick wit. Much _too_ quick for _him_ most of the time. So when she spoke with sarcasm, it was sometimes lost on him. Although he didn't think that she would joke about something so serious.

"I am carrying your son or daughter inside of me, Will." She said. "You have every right to share in this decision. As much as I hate it."

He winced as though she had slapped him upon hearing the last words. That she hated carrying his child was something he had suspected but had never expected to hear. She had never said it out loud before. At least not to him.

"I did not mean that the way that it sounded, Will." She said quickly, realizing by his reaction that he had misunderstood. "I do not hate the fact that we share a child. I swear to you that is not what I meant at all." She was relieved to see the pained look ease off of his face. "I only meant that I hate having to consult someone else over something this important rather than just doing what I _know_ is right. Instead of simply doing what needs to be done as I am accustomed to doing. But it is only fair that you have your say. So I will not stay there if you object."

"Why is this so important to you?" He asked her seriously. Maybe if could just understand. "You are not single-handedly responsible for securing peace for your people, Djaq. There's a lot at stake here, I know. But there's also a lot that can go wrong. Robin's plan may not even work. You have to accept the possibility that we may not be able to stop Prince John and Rashid's father."

"No! I _will not_ accept that. I _cannot_." She said fiercely, tears springing up in her eyes. "This _must_ work. We _must_ succeed. I owe this to my people!" She blurted.

"What? You don't owe anybody anything."

"Don't I?" She asked, trying to force her voice to take on an even tone. She did not want to get emotional over this.

"What is this about Djaq? I know it's about you wanting peace for your people. But there's more to it. Tell me." He said gently, locking eyes with her. She looked close to tears.

"You would not understand." She said quietly, but without much conviction. His tone was so reassuring and welcoming. His eyes and his voice and his words all beckoned her to open up. And she wanted so badly to share this burden with him but it was so very difficult for her. It was not really in her nature to do so.

"Try me." He offered softly. He watched patiently as her brow crinkled and she chewed on her lower lip. He knew her well enough to know that she was struggling over whether to open up to him or not. After a moment or two, she looked down at her hands resting in her lap and began quietly.

"I worry that I have been disloyal to my people. To my family. To my homeland and my faith. That I have let them down."

"How?" He asked, confused.

Pause.

More lip biting.

"By fighting for Robin." She finally said so quietly that he had to strain to hear her over the trickling of the stream and the rustling of the trees.

"Because he was a Crusader? Does part of you blame him for what happened to your family?"

She shook her head. "No. It's not that."

Another pause.

"It would be understandable if you did. I suppose it would be hard not to." Will was sure that if he were in her position, he would have a hard time forgiving _any_ Crusaders, former or otherwise.

"But I _don't_. Absolutely not. I was a soldier just like he was and I killed _his_ countrymen just as surely as he killed _mine_. And the men whose lives I took all probably had families too. They were someone's father or brother or son or husband. That is the nature of war. So I do not blame him at _all_. Really." She said sincerely.

She had seen and done too much in this life to ever be comfortable judging men on the guilt or innocence of their pasts. And she had never blamed Robin for his former occupation. She knew that he was a good man, a man who had freed her and who would always have her loyalty. And she was proud to fight for him. Mostly.

"I don't think I've ever heard you talk that way before." Will said carefully after a moment of silence. "About killing during the war. You talk about being a soldier sometimes, but I guess I never gave enough thought to what that actually meant. Anything you've said has always just been in general, you know. When I pictured you fighting, it was always in order to defend yourself, nothing more."

"Does that _bother_ you?" She asked defensively. She knew what an honorable man Will Scarlett was and how much he valued justice. He was also very idealistic and preferred to think of the world as black or white. As far as he was concerned, everyone was either rich or poor, courageous or cowardly, good or bad. It was not really his fault, he simply hadn't seen enough of the world to realize that most people fell somewhere in between.

So where would he place _her_ now? The idea that Will could despise her for things she'd done in the past should have angered her. After all, she had never been ashamed of her life or the choices she'd made. But, instead, it made her sad.

"It bothers me for _you_." He said truthfully. "I hate that you had to go through things like that."

Sometimes he wondered how she'd ever kept herself sane after all of her losses and all of the different people she'd had to become in order to get by. Djaq the boy, Djaq the soldier, Djaq the outlaw. She'd lost her family, her freedom, her home. That was more than anyone should have to live through. Then he always reminded himself that she was the strongest person he'd ever known, she had strengths that they probably hadn't even seen yet.

"We have both had difficult times, Will." She said in a much softer tone, immensely relieved that he did not think she was some sort of monster. "It would be impossible to name anyone who has not. And the reason that I do not speak of how I spent my time as a soldier is because first, I do not like to dwell on it...it is in the past and cannot be changed. And second, because Robin and I have a sort of unspoken understanding. _Neither_ of us speak about such things. Neither of us really wants to anyway, but it would also be rather unfair to each other. We _were_ on opposite sides, after all. But we both fight for peace now, so that should be all that matters."

"What do you mean it _should_ be all that matters? _Isn't_ that what matters? That you're both on the same side now?" He asked her.

"But _are_ we? Robin and I? You know as well as I do how fiercely loyal he is to his king..._your_ king." She sometimes forgot that Richard was Will's king as well. "_Robin_ believes his king to be a man of great honor who fights for justice. While _I_ know that he is, in _fact_, responsible for the merciless slaughter of my people and the ruthless occupation of my beloved land. That he is an arrogant tyrant who is determined to wipe the world clean of Muslims." She spat.

She took a deep, yet shaky breath before continuing. "So if I faithfully serve Robin, and he just as faithfully serves his king, do I not then _also_ serve his king? The king who has cost me so much! Am I not being a traitor to my own people? Am I not, in some way at least, condoning and even supporting his siege of terror across my land? Doesn't the fact that _I'm_ working and fighting for his people here in England while he can't seem to be bothered, just enable _him_ to continue to neglect them in favor of capturing my homeland?"

Will said nothing. She hadn't really expected him to. There was nothing he _could_ say. There were no easy answers. And while she knew that Will was no zealot like Robin, he must feel _some_ loyalty to his king. She shouldn't have spoken so harshly.

"I'm sorry, Will." She said, recovering her composure and looking him in the eye. But he wouldn't meet her gaze. He looked down at the ground and wore an expression she couldn't read. "I did not mean to get so heated while talking about this."

"_Please_ don't apologize to me, Djaq." He said in a low, heavy voice. "You have nothing to be sorry for. I should be apologizing to _you_, but I wouldn't know where to begin." There were days, since meeting Djaq, that he hated being English. He hated what his people had done to hers. And, more specifically, to _her personally_.

War, occupation, death, enslavement! And yet here she was, putting her life on the line for them everyday. Aiding the poor, helping to treat illnesses in the villages, fighting the Sheriff. Why didn't she hate them all? Why didn't she hate _him_? How could she not hold a grudge? Because she was his beautiful fighting angel. That was why. Because she was good and strong and forgiving.

"No." She said firmly. She wanted to cross the space between them and place her hand on his cheek, but she was too painfully aware of what had happened yesterday when they had gotten too close. And though she still did not quite understand why, she knew that he was nervous about intimacy between them.

So she stayed where she was and hoped that her voice and her face would convey the truth of her words. "You are the _best man_ that I have ever known. I could never fault you or the rest of the gang or even the English people for what is happening at home. And I do not blame Robin either. It's just..." Here her voice trailed off. She wondered if Will could understand. Robin was such a good man, but he had a blind spot when it came to his king. Did the rest of them see it too?

"I know it must be hard sometimes to separate Robin _the man_ from his blind devotion to the king." Will spoke up as if reading her thoughts. She found an enormous comfort in that. "But you have to believe that Robin hates the war as much as you do. Well, maybe not as _much_ as you, but he hates it. He knows that it's wrong and that we shouldn't be there. I've heard him say so."

"I do know that. I really do." She said.

"But, at the end of the day," he continued in a slightly edgier tone of voice, "after everything he's given up, he's still a Noble. And he just can't stop believing that the king will return and that everything will be wonderful. He just can't see that if the king really cared about any of this, about any of _us_, he would _be_ here, fighting like we are. Why is it always _people_ who fight for their _kings_, rather than _kings_ fighting for their _people_?"

"I do not know. That is the way things have always been. But Robin is a good man and I really _am_ proud to serve him. I will always be loyal to him, as my leader and my friend. So this is not about _him_. It's about _me_. I want so badly to make this work, Will. To keep Rashid from delivering that gold to his father. I just hope that it's enough to keep them from succeeding at their plan."

"I want that to. You must know that." He told her. He wanted it because he believed in peace and because King Richard belonged in England, fixing the problems his brother had created. But mostly, he wanted it for _her_. For the woman who had stolen his heart. The woman who had given so much of herself to them and their people.

"But we can help to make it a reality. Maybe your king and mine are close to reaching an understanding. Maybe, after all of this time and all of the bloodshed, there is finally a reason to hope. Maybe there can finally be peace. I _have_ to do my part. Don't you see that? Please tell me that you understand, at least a little." She practically pleaded.

"I _do_ understand. Completely. And I'm so glad you told me what's been on your mind. You can talk to me about anything, Djaq. I'm always here for you. I know that I haven't been. But I'm here now and I will be from now on."

"Thank you. It means a lot to me that you understand."

"I do. I really do. And I want so badly to say what you want to hear. I just hate the thought of you being at the castle at all, let alone _staying_ there. But, I understand how important it is to you to feel that you've done everything you can."

"So what does that mean?"

"I don't know what to say. I trust your instincts, Djaq. I swear that I do. This is not about me thinking you can't take care of yourself. I just..." He exhaled loudly and ran a nervous hand through his hair.

"Okay, look." He offered. "What if I come to the meeting tonight with Robin and I see this guy in person? So I can form my own opinion of how important your safety is to him. And I'll check out the room and the locks on the door to see how safe everything is. Just to ease my mind, not because I doubt you. Then, if you and Robin think you should stay, and I feel comfortable after checking it out, I guess I'll have to agree. Alright?"

He still didn't like it, but he really didn't have the heart to keep her from something this important to her if he could help it. He knew how she valued her independence and what it must have cost for her to offer to comply with his wishes in this matter. So, if he had to, he'd stand guard right outside her window all night long without her knowing it, just to be sure she was safe. But he didn't think he could bear to tell her no. Especially not now that he understood her reasons.

"Alright." She said, smiling at him. "Thank you. Oh. I just realized. I set my knife down when I was putting away the seeds and I forgot to get it. I have to go back." And she started to stand.

"No. I'll go. You stay here and rest some more." Will offered, standing up.

"I can go. It's fine."

"Please, Djaq. Just let me do this. My legs are much longer, I'll be there and back before you're even halfway there." And, before she could object, he was gone.

As she watched his retreating figure, she thought about her first impressions of him. Not that first day she'd arrived in his forest, but after that. That first week or so before she'd really gotten to know him. Before she'd gotten to know any of them.

It was funny now, but she didn't understand at first that he fought with the others. He didn't seem to carry a weapon, for one thing. Only that big old ax strapped to his back and a smaller one at his waist. But, to her, those were not weapons. They were tools. So she'd taken him as some sort of handy man for the gang.

That misconception was reinforced by the fact that he was always _doing_ something. Setting up camp for the night, gathering wood, starting and stoking the fire, filling water skins, carving things, going on errands. He was rarely still. Always offering to take on some new task. So it had made sense to her at the time. Plus, he just seemed so calm. So easy-going. So _harmless_.

Then she saw him fight for the first time and she nearly forgot how to breathe. She also quite nearly forgot the guard in front of her that she was suppose to be fighting. But Will was just so...what?...amazing was probably the best way to describe it. He wasn't trained, that much was fairly clear. And he wasn't terribly disciplined in his technique either. It was more the fact that he was so passionate and driven and yet completely comfortable with his weapon.

She had been rather embarrassed to learn that his axes were his weapons as well as his tools. It had never occurred to her. And he handled them brilliantly. So much so that she often couldn't tell where _he_ ended and the _weapon_ began. He was incredible. Much better than she was. That was for certain. His movements were so fluid and almost graceful. Like he was born with an ax in his hand. He twirled and swung them effortlessly. They were a part of him and they did his bidding, whether at chopping and carving, or fighting and wounding.

And as for being calm and harmless, she quickly learned that there was a fire simmering just below the surface that, with the right provocation, was enough to make the devil himself run for cover. Whenever he spoke about the poor or injustice or tyranny his voice took on this deep and passionate tone and his eyes flashed like lightning and it always made her knees go weak. So many conflicting aspects to this one man. She just couldn't figure him out. She'd had the others pegged within a day or two.

Robin was a good man with lofty ideals and a god complex that would rival...well...pick your god and Robin would give him a run for his money. Allan was, of course, a trickster. A con man plain and simple. But he also wanted desperately to be a good man. And he _was_...even better than he realized.

And Much. He was more complicated than a first glance would reveal. He seemed innocent and pliable on the surface. A bit too vocal, but harmless. But he was actually a very determined and brave man when the situation called for it. And she soon learned not to underestimate or disregard him as the others often did. And John was strong and wasn't one for idle chatter. But he was honorable and decent and she quickly found herself relying on his steadfastness.

But Will was so many things, sometimes all at once, that he'd all but confounded her. Maybe that was why she'd paid him so much more attention than the others. Maybe that was why she was drawn to him. Maybe that was how she'd ended up in love with him without even realizing it. Whether it had happened so gradually that she just hadn't noticed, or had been there since the beginning but she'd been too inexperienced at romance to see the signs, she did not know. But love him she did.

Djaq was brought out of her reverie when the baby stirred and fluttered in her womb. It had happened a few times since that first instance yesterday, and she was not only growing accustomed to it, she found that it filled her with more peace and happiness than she would have thought possible. She ran her palm back and forth over her belly and softly began to sing.

Will found Djaq's knife right beside the cluster of plants they'd been working with. He picked it up, brushed it off and headed back to where she was waiting. As he approached, he heard what sounded like singing, but he couldn't make out any of the words and he found it vaguely odd because he'd never heard Djaq sing before. It wasn't really the sort of thing she did. But it must be Djaq.

He was only a yard or two away from her before he figured out what she was doing. He stopped dead in his tracks and couldn't move. There before him sat Djaq, with her hand on her stomach and a soft smile on her face as she looked down at her her belly and sang something in Arabic to the child inside of her. _His_ child. It was the most perfect sight he'd ever witnessed in his life. And he knew that as long as he lived he would never forget that moment.

She obviously had no idea that he was there and he knew that he was intruding. He should just quietly back up and then come back after she had finished. After all, this was a private moment between mother and child, and he had no right to be there. But he couldn't tear himself away. And he didn't really want to go.

At some point she looked up, noticing him for the first time, but neither of them spoke and Will made no attempt to move closer. He was embarrassed at having been caught spying on her and she was clearly embarrassed at having been observed during such an intimate and unguarded moment. After what could only have been seconds, though, she gave him a small, timid smile.

"I'm sorry...I was...I didn't mean..." He stammered.

"He moved." She explained quietly. "So I was just...I know it is foolish. It is not as if he can hear me anyway. I just thought...I do not know." And she looked away, feeling incredibly emotional.

"Was that a lullaby?" He asked her uncertainly as he moved slowly over to where she sat. A peaceful hush seemed to have fallen over the entire forest. Over the entire _world_. And neither of them wanted to say or do anything to shatter it.

"I guess so. I must have heard it as a child, although I do not remember. It just came into my head now as I felt the baby stir." She answered, looking up at him and feeling rather vulnerable, which was uncharacteristic and unnerving for her, as he came to a stop in front of her. She could tell that he was trying to decide where to sit. Back against the tree he had occupied earlier, or closer to her. She wanted him closer.

"Here." She patted the ground beside her and scooted over so that he could lean his back against the tree as well. At first he looked unsure, but after a second or two he complied.

"Maybe your mother sang it to you." He said as he settled in beside her, being careful to avoid any contact. "The lullaby, I mean. Maybe she sang it when you were a child?" He was trying to speak as quietly as he could, but even his softest voice sounded too loud for such a sacred occasion.

"Perhaps. But I do not remember her. Not at all. She died when we were very small. Maybe I just heard it somewhere. I do not know." She wanted to lean her head on his shoulder. She wanted him to wrap his arms around her. She wanted so many things in that moment. But she managed to stay perfectly still and face forward so she wouldn't startle him away from her.

"I'm sorry about your mother. I didn't know that." He said, barely above a whisper. "What does it mean?"

"What?" She asked softly.

"The song." He said, still looking straight ahead.

"Oh. It means...let me think...it means, 'Sleep my child. Your enemies are cast away and I will watch over you. You will live in peace for a hundred years.' Basically that is what it says over and over." Her heart was dancing in her chest and she was afraid to look in his direction. Afraid that she would break the spell.

"It's very pretty. My mum used to sing to us. My dad too."

"What did they sing?" She chanced to ask.

"Lots of stuff. Songs about horses and maidens and other things I guess. It's been so long that I don't remember." He took a deep but nearly silent breath before asking his next question. "You said that he moved?"

She nodded. "Yesterday. And then last night and today. And now again."

"Oh."

Silence.

"Do you want to feel? I do not know if you can feel it or not. But you can try." She forced herself to breathe steadily and she silently warned herself not to expect too much. It was entirely possible that he would get up and move away now. She had no idea what he was comfortable with and what would make him nervous.

"Really? You're sure? You don't have to say that. I'll understand if you don't want me to." He was finding it incredibly hard not to touch her.

He had been doing so well up until now. He'd been respectful and hadn't even reached out for her arm once throughout he day. No boundaries had been in danger of being crossed. But now she was offering him the chance to get closer to her and he didn't know if he could trust himself.

Before he could process another thought, though, she reached for his hand and slid it up under her shirt and brought it to rest on her bare belly. He heard her gasp softly as his calloused hand came into contact with her soft flesh and had to bite his lip hard in order to steady his body.

"There! It moved. Did you feel that?" She asked him excitedly.

He shook his head. "I don't think so."

"Wait. Maybe he will do it again."

As they waited, their fears now momentarily forgotten, with his hand on her belly and her hand over his, he said, "You keep saying _he_ whenever you talk about the baby. Are you hoping for a boy?"

"I had not considered which I prefer. A boy _or_ a girl is nice. I only say 'he' because I have not yet grown used to thinking about the..." Her voice trailed off and she bit her lip.

"I understand." He said softly. "This has been a lot for you to get used to. Everything is changing. Of course it would take some time to get it all straight in your head."

She nodded and leaned ever so slightly closer to him. "I am sorry that he...or _she_," she laughed. "has stopped moving now. I think that it may be too early to be able to feel it from the outside anyway." But she did not remove her hand from his and he made no move to withdraw his own from her belly.

"Maybe." Was all he said as he took his free arm and very slowly lifted it up and placed it around her shoulders. She, rather than jumping as he'd half expected, laid her head gently against his shoulder and settled against him.

"I love you, Will." She whispered.


	16. Reconciliation

_**A/N:** Warning: This chapter contains material which is intended for a mature audience. That's right, sex. Graphic sex. Fluffy, happy WillandDjaq sex, but sex none the less. If you are offended by such material, turn back now. Consider yourself warned. _=)

**Reconciliation-M Rated**

He immediately withdrew his hand from her belly. "_Djaq_." It came out as a strangled, trembling plea. "You shouldn't say...Please...You don't...You don't have to say that." It was hard enough being so close to her while knowing that she would never really be his, but to hear those words whispered from her lips, those words he had dreamed so many times of hearing her say to him, produced an ache in his heart akin to mourning. "I know that you don't love me."

She immediately pushed herself away from where she'd been leaning against him and twisted around to face him. "Of course I do. Why would you _say_ that?" She demanded, her voice filled with hurt. "And why does that make you so nervous?"

He just stared at her blankly, not at all certain of her meaning. Was she just caught up in the moment? In the rush of emotions from bonding over their child? Was she trying to console him by _pretending_? Did she mean that she cared for him as a friend and as the father of her child? Or did she mean...Could she feel...Was it possible that...Did she really _love__him_? After all this time had she actually started to feel something more than friendship for him?

His face and his eyes conveyed such total incomprehension that she actually had to mentally go back over her words to be certain that she hadn't unconsciously lapsed into Arabic while speaking to him. But she held his gaze intently and waited for him to respond. To offer some explanation for the absurdity of the statement he'd just uttered.

What madness was this? As if he could honestly believe, after all this time, that she did not love him. Although...it _would_ explain quite a lot. For example, the way that, before today, he'd kept his distance and avoided her almost constantly. And his obvious discomfort whenever they got too close. Not to mention the fact the he seemed almost _ashamed_ of wanting her. But, no! It was ridiculous. She had been throwing herself at him for _months_ now! Of course he knew exactly how she felt for him. He ought to! After all, she'd certainly _told_ him often enough.

Pause.

Wait,_ hadn't_ she?

She must have. Indeed, she was sure that she had. She quickly searched her mind, going over every memory of the past five months. Every moment she'd spent with - or even _near - _him. Surely there was once. Just once. One time when she'd told him how she felt. When she'd let him know that she regretted the awful way that she'd treated him after their first night together. That she didn't mean the things she'd said. That she loved him and wanted him and was proud to have him as her husband.

She felt her heart break under the weight of the truth as she was suddenly and _finally_ hit with a moment of total clarity. How could she have been so stupid? How could she have allowed this to happen? How could she have _missed_ this? This man...this incredible and amazing man...loved her, had given her everything he had and she had rejected him over and over again. Because she was selfish and frightened and foolish.

And then, when she'd finally come to terms with the fact that she loved and needed him, she'd simply expected him to bounce right back...to take her in his arms and tell her he loved her too...to kiss her and hold her. All without a word from her, as if nothing had ever come between them. But, of course, he wouldn't do that. He _couldn't_. He was much too honorable.

Will Scarlett was the truest man who had ever lived and he had taken her at her word. He would never do _anything_ to disrespect _anyone_. Especially her. She had made him agree that they would _not_ share a bed, _not_ be a couple, _not_ share their lives. That he should never expect that to change. She'd insisted that he keep his distance from her and never blur the lines between intimacy and friendship.

That had been her condition for staying. For not running off with his child. For agreeing to marry him in the first place. He would never act against what he believed she wanted...what she _told_ him she wanted, no matter how much he wanted to...no matter how much it hurt him.

She had made him believe that she would never love him and he obviously believed it still. How confused and frustrated he must have been each and every time she tried to get closer to him. How strange, unfeeling, and impossibly cruel he must have found her behavior.

"_Will_!" She said desperately, lunging towards him and placing her hands on either side of his face. "I am _so_ so sorry. You have to believe that I love you. I swear to you that I love you with all of my heart. I always have. I just...I did not understand. I was so stupid and frightened that I did not see. I'm sorry."

"Really?" He asked, wide-eyed, a look of shock and doubt clearly written on his face. "Do you really _mean_ that? Please don't say it if you don't mean it, Djaq. I couldn't bear that. I--"

Suddenly her lips crashed into his and her arms found their way around his neck. He hesitated for only a second, still not quite daring to trust what was happening, then he closed his eyes, opened his mouth and returned her kiss as she devoured him ravenously. He gripped her firmly around the waist and pulled her onto his lap, where she straddled him, pressing her body flush against him. It felt so good to finally hold her and kiss her, to feel her breasts against his chest.

Their hearts beat wildly as their tongues mingled and their hands roamed one another's bodies. Djaq frantically pulled off her sword and tossed it aside so that she could press herself closer to his body as he held onto her as tightly as he dared while being mindful of the need to be careful of the baby inside her.

"I am _so_ sorry." She whispered as they broke apart for air. "You deserve so much better than the way that I have treated you." And she kissed his cheek softly, running her fingers through his hair and down the back of his neck, making him shiver and grip her tighter.

"No. You don't have to apologize. I think I understand." He said soothingly, running his hands up and down her back while looking into her eyes. He hoped that this was no dream. That she was really in his arms...and that she would _stay_ this time.

"No you don't. You do not understand. The night we spent in the cave was the best night of my life, Will. You made me feel things that I never thought I would feel _ever_. You made me feel safe and loved and happier than I believed was possible. And the way that you made love to me..." Here she unconsciously ground herself against him. "I wanted you _so_ much. But I got so scared the next morning." Her eyes glistened with unspilled tears as she recalled her cruelty to him. "Then later, I thought that you _knew_ that I loved you but that you just needed time. I should have just said so. I'm sorry."

"Shh. It's alright. You're here now and I won't ever let you go." He whispered, kissing slowing down her jaw to her neck and shoulder. "I love you so much, Djaq. I've missed you _sooo_ much." And he pulled her down to him and rolled his hips into her, making her hiss softly.

"_Ohhh_, I have missed you too." She purred against him. "I need you so badly." And she reached down and began to unfasten his tool strap and lift his shirt up and over his head, which he leaned away from the tree in order allow her to do. Then, without missing a beat, she pulled off her own top in one swift movement, eliciting a sharp intake of breath from him as she did so.

"Are they...I mean they look...They're..._bigger_." He managed finally, without moving his eyes away from her chest. They were so big and beautiful and _so_ close that he had to clench his hands into tight fists just to keep from reaching out and grabbing them.

Despite her intense passion of a moment before, she could not help the small giggle that escaped her lips at the awestruck look on his face. He looked not terribly unlike the village children when offered some new plaything Will had carved for them. "Yes. You have not seen them in a while. They are, indeed, much bigger." She said indulgently.

"I'm sorry." He said quickly, realizing that he was staring. "It's just...how?" He asked, finally tearing his gaze away and looking her in the eyes.

"For the baby." She said, caressing his cheek. "He must eat after he is born, must he not? So my body is preparing itself so that I may suckle him." She informed him in her matter-of-fact physician's tone. He returned his eyes to her chest and his expression changed so drastically that she had no clue what he was thinking. He just...sort of..._stared_.

The mention of Djaq nursing their child filled him with a strange mix of thoughts and feelings.

On the one hand he felt what could only be described as an enormous sense of pride. His child would be healthy and strong. Djaq would see to that. She was the strongest, most determined, most relentless woman he had ever met and she would nourish his baby from her own body and see to it that he or she needed for nothing. There was a tremendous comfort in that.

Worries over starvation had never been far from Will's mind since his own mother had secretly deprived herself of her most basic necessities in order to give her sons a fighting chance. She had died so that they could live and Will loved her for it. But _Djaq_ would never give up. She would keep them _all_ strong and healthy and _together_. Because Djaq was a fighter. It was in her blood and she knew of no other way to be. She could survive anything, and she would pass that trait on to their child.

But he was also just the tiniest bit disappointed. Her breasts were so round and soft and lovely. The golden color of sunshine with firm little nipples that matched perfectly the deep pink of her lips. He remembered how he had driven her wild during their first night together by kissing and sucking them, gently and cautiously at first, and then with greater intensity as his confidence grew and he saw and heard the pleasure that his actions sparked in her. He wished now that he could take them into his mouth and make her feel that way again.

"Will." She called, trying to get his attention.

"Sorry." He smiled sheepishly. "So then I guess shouldn't...?" And his voice trailed off as he scolded himself at such improper thoughts. Djaq was carrying his child now, her body did not exist for _his_ pleasure.

Ah. Now she understood. So she reached for his hands and brought them up to cup her breasts. She reveled in the feel of his rough fingers on the delicate surface of her nipples. "The baby will not need them for a long time yet. For now, they are all yours." She told him. And then, in a whisper, she added, "_I_ am all yours...always."

That was all the encouragement he needed as he immediately leaned down and brushed his tongue experimentally over one nipple, then the other and back again before taking it fully into his mouth and gently sucking, making her toss her head back and bite her lip. At the same time, he untied her trousers and slid his hand inside of them to cup her slick warmth, making her pant and mewl and grind herself against him.

She reached between them and attempted to unlace _his_ trousers, but she found the task rather more difficult than she had expected. She tugged frantically at the ties but it proved to be of no use at all. My goodness he laced them up tightly! "Will, wait. Help me." She managed to gasp through her moans as he stroked and caressed her lovingly.

"What? What's wrong?" He asked as he removed his hand, immediately alert and looking concerned.

"I cannot untie your pants. _Help_ me." She commanded urgently, making him grin.

Seeing the way she nearly pouted and hearing the desperate determination in her voice made him chuckle low in his throat. For some reason, the idea that she could be so frustrated over being unable to access his trousers struck him as highly amusing...and adorable. She really _did_ love him. And she wanted him as much as he wanted her. Nothing could make him happier.

"Here. Stand up, _habibi_." He said to her without thinking. It was what he almost always called her in his dreams, where he was free to love her openly.

She simply stared at him, a look of pure disbelief on her face. "You remembered?" She asked quietly.

Once, probably at least a year ago now, they had been out gathering herbs together when he began asking her how to say different words in her language. Tree, house, water, herb, friend, sword. Anything and everything. And she'd patiently answered each and every one just as she always did. Until finally, after asking her the translations of at least thirty different words, he'd worked up the nerve to ask her for the one that he'd _really_ wanted to hear her say to him. Even if there was no real meaning behind it.

"_So, what would you call your sweetheart?" He'd asked her as casually as he could manage without meeting her eyes._

"_My sweetheart?" She'd smirked in her usual way. The way that always made his heart do back flips._

"_Yeah. Like...um...how would you say 'darling' or 'my love' in your language?" And he'd held his breath and waited to savor the beauty of her words and pretend that they were spoken just for him...with passion and feeling._

_He still recalled the way she had closed her eyes and let the word slide gently off her tongue. "_Habibi_." She had said softly. "I would call my love '_habibi_'._

He blushed over the realization that he'd slipped now and called her that out loud. He supposed that he was just not used to being so intimate with her and it had almost seemed the natural thing to say at such a moment. But his embarrassment was short lived when she swiftly covered his mouth with her own and consumed him in the sweetest, deepest, most soulful kiss that he was sure any two people had ever shared.

He wrapped one arm around her back and the other securely beneath her backside and stood up, with her holding tightly onto him with her arms and legs, as they kissed. He laid her gently down on the mossy forest floor, being careful not to put any weight on her as he covered her body with his own. Then he reached down and untied his trousers for her, remembering her command.

Djaq was barely able to contain herself as she lifted her hips and pressed herself against him. She shuddered slightly and deepened their kiss as she felt his hardness even through their clothing. She had wasted so much time that she could have been..._should_ have been spending with Will. She could not bear to waste another moment. This felt so right and all she could manage to think about was how much closer to him she wanted to get.

As their kiss came to a close, Will sat up and quickly removed her boots and then his own, tossing them nearby. When he turned back towards her, he saw that she was frantically wriggling out of her trousers and undergarments and carelessly kicking them aside. She smiled up at him almost bashfully, clearly waiting for his reaction, and his heart nearly stopped.

There she lay before him..._completely_ uncovered. She was so much more beautiful than he even remembered. There hadn't been much light to see by the only other time he had seen her this way, and he allowed himself a moment now to simply look at her. To appreciate her exquisite form and how truly lucky he was. As his eyes journeyed hungrily up and down her body, he took in her feminine curves, now made much more prominent by pregnancy. Aside from her breasts being rather larger, carrying his child had also made her hips wider and more defined.

Then, of course, there was her stomach. Although she was petite, Djaq had grown up well-fed and had never had the incredibly thin frame of most of the peasant women Will had known from childhood. And even as one of the outlaws, for whom hearty meals were few and far between, she'd never appeared frail or gaunt. But now there was a firm and distinct roundness to her middle section starting just above her navel and ending right above her hips, not yet large, but unmistakable none the less. He sighed. She was flawless. Absolutely perfect.

As his eyes made their way to her face, he saw that she wore a look of barely contained anticipation and raw desire. She was breathing heavily and carefully watching his every movement, looking ready to pounce. He practically tore off his own trousers and underclothes and gently positioned himself over her. "I love you." He told her as he propped himself up on his forearms and leaned his head down slightly in order to kiss her while slowly rolling his hips against hers.

She hissed, feeling the warmth of his naked body against her own, and wrapped her arms around his back and held him to her. "I love you so much, Will." She breathed.

And she kissed him with so much passion and emotion that he had to struggle to keep himself from thrusting into her right then and there. He felt her thighs spread beneath him and her knees raise as she positioned them on either side of his legs, bringing him into direct contact with the soft warmth that he so craved. He pushed himself up on his forearms so that he could look into her eyes.

"I don't want to hurt you." He said in a heavy voice, laden with the ache of desire and need that had been neglected for far too long.

She was touched by the look of genuine concern that fought for dominance over the lust he was so clearly feeling. She could feel his hardness pressing against her now without the barrier of their clothes and she wanted so badly to feel him inside of her. "I do not think that it will hurt this time. It will be alright. Go ahead. _Please_." She pleaded.

"But...then what about the baby?" He asked worriedly. It was so very hard for him to resist doing what every inch of his body was screaming at him to do. And he could feel the wetness between her legs that told him, even more than her words, how much her body needed him too. But he had to be sure. He had to know that he would not injure her or cause her or their baby any discomfort.

"He is hidden away deep inside my body." She said breathlessly, finding it extremely difficult not to flip him onto his back, wrestle him to the ground, and take him into her by force. Only the fact that she was pregnant kept her from attempting it. "I promise you, my love, everything will be fine. I want you so badly. Do you not want _me_?" She asked, although she knew the answer all too well.

Upon hearing her ask this, the very last of his resolve crumbled, just as she knew that it would, and he lowered his hips and slid into her easily.

"_Oh Will_." She gasped as he entered her, filling him with desire and pride and more love than he even thought _possible_. He pulled out of her almost completely before driving into her once again. This time, she brought her hips up to meet him and ground her pelvis against his as she did so, causing a jolt of unimaginable pleasure to rush through him. He buried himself in her warm folds, being careful still not to put any weight on her. He could feel her now with every part of his body as her heat enveloped him and drew him further and further into her with every thrust.

As they fell into a steady rhythm he traced his lips and tongue over her mouth and neck and breasts, causing her to grip him more tightly. He murmured softly, giving voice to half-formed thoughts of love and intense passion around increasingly frantic kisses. So much time had passed since they'd done this and it felt so unbelievably good that he was suddenly aware, if only vaguely so, that it would not be long before he lost control and reached his climax. He wanted to be certain that she experienced her own release before he did, but he didn't think he'd be able to hold off for very long.

His worry proved completely unnecessary, however, as, within moments, her movements became frenzied and wild. She sat up just slightly and slid her hands down his back to his buttocks and tried to push him deeper and deeper inside of her as she opened her legs wider and called out to him in a strange mix of English and Arabic.

Djaq's mind went completely fuzzy as she was hit with wave after wave of white-hot pleasure. Her body had been aching for him for months now and it wasted no time in letting her know that this release was long overdue. She lost all track of time and place and all she knew for certain was that this was as close to paradise as she had ever felt in her life and she never wanted to come back down. She finally collapsed against the forest floor, panting and covered in a fine sheen of sweat.

Will felt her body pulsing around him and he increased his speed and pushed harder, nearly forgetting to take extra care with her. He slid into her one last time, burying his face between her neck and shoulder, and held his position as he climaxed. He was completely unaware of anything around him, until, slowly and gradually, his body relaxed. When his breathing evened out, he came back to reality enough to feel the gentleness of Djaq's hands ghosting up and down his back and her lips planting soft, light kisses to his face and shoulder.

"I _love_ you." She said seriously. And she turned her face and kissed his lips deeply and slowly, determined to show him exactly how much he meant to her just in case their lovemaking had left any doubt. Even though their bodies had taken their pleasure and had now all but given out, she was not ready to separate herself from him...her husband...without making sure that, after so much heartache, he finally felt secure in her love for him.

He returned her kiss and, as he did so, he pulled out of her and shifted his body in order to lay down at her side. He brought her with him as they continued to kiss, so that they were laying side by side and facing one another, legs and arms still tangled from their coupling. Will was almost afraid to let go of her. Part of him feared that if he did, she would have time to regret everything that had just taken place between them...like she had before. So he held her and kissed her and silently prayed that he could keep her love this time.

She could feel the desperation in his kiss and in the trembling way that he held her against him and she wanted so badly to reassure him and to be able to satiate his seemingly endless hunger for her. She kissed him more deeply and firmly, letting him draw from her what he needed. She could tell how badly she had broken his heart and that it would take a great deal of time and love to completely heal the wounds she'd inflicted. She resolved at that very moment that she would never again hide herself from him. She would be as open and unguarded as she knew how to be. She would learn to be even _more_ so.

He deserved to have all of her heart and she knew that it would always be safe with him. He would never try to dominate her or quash her independence. He would always be proud of her abilities and contributions, and never be threatened by her passion and fire the way that a weaker man might be. She would let him into her thoughts and her soul and she would spend the rest of her life making sure that he knew that he was loved and that she recognized how lucky she was to have him.

She told herself that she would do all of these things for _him_, because he needed them. But deep down she could not deny the fact that it was _she_ who needed _him_. That her heart and soul were only complete when he was a part of her. And, as frightening and new as that was for her, it also felt more right than anything had in a very long time...perhaps ever.

At last he ended their kiss, knowing that he could not compel her to stay with him based on the sheer force of his need and will, and slowly loosened his grip on her. But, to his overwhelming relief, rather than drawing back from him even the littlest bit, she snuggled closer and laid her head against his chest. She kissed the place right above his heart and whispered, "_You_ are my family."

He swallowed hard to try to keep down the emotions that rose up in him at her declaration. It took him a moment before he could trust himself to speak. He knew what she had lost in her life and how much she must truly care for him to be able to say those words.

He realized then that loving this woman and, more importantly being loved _by_ her, was so much more than a blessing and a privilege. It was a great responsibility. She'd been let down so often and had been thrown so many disappointments, that he was determined to spend the rest of his life making sure that she felt secure and content and loved. "And _you're_ my family. Both of you." He answered softly into her hair, reaching between them to cover her naked belly with his hand.

How long they lay in each other's arms like that, neither of them knew nor cared. The world, for now, existed solely for them. There was no danger, no mission, no war, no gang. There was no religion nor country nor Sheriff nor King. There was only them and their child and they were safe and happy and complete.

Eventually, Will came to his senses and knew that lying naked in the middle of the forest with their weapons tossed precariously nearby was not the best way to be discovered by anyone. So he kissed her forehead and nudged her gently. "We really should get dressed." He said reluctantly.

"Mmm." She groaned and snuggled closer to him.

"I'm sorry." He said sincerely. "But we really can't stay here like this." And he kissed her forehead once again.

"No. Of course you are right." She sighed, pushing herself up into a sitting position. "I really should wash, though, before returning to the castle." Here she glanced at him sideways, wondering if this shift in their relationship would affect his willingness to support her efforts for peace.

He noticed the look she gave him and said firmly, "Don't worry. I understand how important this is to you. I wouldn't try to keep you from it." He meant it and was gratified to see her smile with relief.

"I do not have my soap here, but water will have to do this time. I am glad we are so near the stream." And she stood up and began to gather their clothes and boots and weapons and lay them in two neat piles--one for him, one for her.

Will watched her as she moved and, although her movements were a bit slower than they used to be and a bit less fluid, she was still lithe and graceful and lovely. "So, do you want me to turn my back while you bathe, or wait just out of sight, or...what?" He asked tentatively.

Despite what they had just shared, he had no idea how comfortable she would be with such sudden and immediate familiarity. Even though she seemed completely unconcerned about walking around naked before him, she might prefer to take her bath in private. He did not want to crowd her or make her feel smothered by their new _togetherness_.

"_No_." She laughed at his offer. "In fact, you could use a wash yourself." He pouted and grumbled playfully. "Come on, you. Get up." And she held her hands down to help him to his feet.

So together they washed and splashed and hugged and kissed and enjoyed each other's company. Finally, deciding they were as clean as they were likely to get, Djaq suggested that they get dressed. "We have no cloth for drying, but the sun is hot and our damp clothes will dry quickly as we walk, I think."

As they dressed, Will had a thought. "Djaq?"

"Hmm?"

"Before I walk you back to the castle, can I show you something?" He asked nervously.

"You have already shown me plenty today, Will Scarlett. Will this require another bath after?" She asked, teasingly.

"Djaq!" He blushed. He couldn't help the laughter, though, that made itself known through his shock at her cheekiness. "It's nothing like _that_! It's just...I have to take you there. But it's not far. Will you come with me?"

"Of course." She answered with a small smile, now intrigued.

He nodded and thought about how happy he was to finally be able to be so open with her, especially after all of the hurt and confusion on both sides. He felt that he owed her some explanation for how he'd spent his time away from her.

"This way." He said as he reached for her hand and she gave it easily. She laced her fingers through his and squeezed his hand as he led her along.


	17. Together

_**A/N:**_Thank you very much to everyone who has taken the time to read and review this story. I am truly sorry for the delay in updating. And for those of you who may have shied away from the previous chapter due to the adult content, I assure you that this chapter is 100% free of naughtiness. Now for those of you who are disappointed at such an announcement (you know who you are), there may be some more smuff coming up in future chapters...maybe...probably...almost definitely. = )

**Together**

"So where exactly are we going?" Djaq asked as Will led her through the forest. It was out of curiosity that she asked, however, rather than any concern, for in truth she was happy to follow him anywhere.

"You'll see." He told her with a smile as he gripped her hand tighter. He loved the way his large hand felt wrapped around her tiny one. Her hands were actually one of the first things about her he'd been drawn to. Sure, he'd seen her exposed chest that first day, which was..._interesting_ to say the least, but the memory of that had quickly faded into no more than a vaguely awkward and embarrassing first meeting.

No, her hands were the part of her that he could never stop looking at. They absolutely amazed him. They were _so_ small, yet so full of strength and speed, purpose and skill. The way she gripped her sword or bow...firmly and with unwavering confidence, but not so tightly as to restrict her movements or lessen her control. They way she balled them up into fists when she was angry or frustrated and used them as deadly weapons when nothing else was in reach. The way she made quick work of picking plants, chopping herbs, or sorting vials...moving at lightening speed but with an absolute precision that was simply mind-boggling.

And, of course, there was the way that she used her hands to heal. _That_ was the most incredible thing. She could run them lightly over someone's skin and tell instantly whether she was dealing with a bruise or a break, a fever or a reaction to something. Her remarkable little hands set broken bones, realigned dislocated shoulders and stitched up wounds so well that you would almost never know she'd been there at all.

But at the same time, they were caring and full of warmth and fit so perfectly into his own palm that he began to wonder if his hands weren't created just for the purpose of holding hers. And now that he could, he planned on doing so as often as possible.

"Hm!" She teased, raising an eyebrow at him.

"What? It's a surprise." He told her with a smile.

"A surprise? You are being very mysterious." She returned, with a smile of her own.

"I don't mean to be. It's just...it's better if you see it, rather than me trying to explain it. It's not much farther."

"Well, now I am _really_ intrigued. Come then, let us go quickly. I want my surprise." And she tugged him along in the direction he'd been leading her, making him laugh.

"Don't get too excited, though. It's no big deal, really. It's just something I want to show you." He said carefully. He tried to banish the worry that it had come out completely wrong...or that she wouldn't understand quite what he'd been trying to accomplish...or why.

He'd wanted so much for it to be perfect when he presented her with it, but he'd finally come to the conclusion, after several modifications, improvements and restarts, that it would never be. That even if he worked on it for the rest of his life, he would never be able to get it just right.

Still, after all that had taken place between them today, he felt like the time had finally come for him to show her. Not only had they spoken, _finally,_ about their feelings for each other and discovered that they had both been very foolish, but they had come together at last as man and wife. Then there was the fact that they had bonded over their baby for the first time. What better way could there be to celebrate such an occasion? And she deserved to know where he'd been all of those times he just _wasn't_ _around_.

"I will get as excited as I please, Will Scarlett. And you will not stop me." She smiled, giving him one of _those_ looks and squeezing his hand. "Now which way?"

"Okay, okay. We're almost there." He laughed, once again taking the lead.

As they reached a small clearing and Will came to a stop, Djaq said, "This is where you carved your father's face. Is it not?"

"Yeah, it is. What I wanted you to see is up there." He said, pointing to the ridge just above them. It was the spot where, just after his dad's death, he had made the tiny carving through which the sun shown, casting his father's gentle and smiling face down into the ravine for just one brief moment before sundown each day. That had been his reason for choosing this place to work. Not only was it quiet and private, but it helped him feel a little closer to his dad.

"Here, be careful." He said, taking both of her hands and leading her slowly up the bluff so that she wouldn't slip. It was a long drop to the valley below.

When they reached the top where the ground leveled out, he released her hands and walked over to the largest tree and paused. Djaq was concerned when his face took on a very serious expression and he just stood there, shifting slightly from one foot to the other and back again. He was clearly struggling with something that he wanted to say and so she waited patiently until he was ready.

"I convinced myself that staying away from you was the right thing to do." He explained after a few moments, his voice filled with guilt and his eyes unable to meet hers. "I told myself that I needed to come to terms with being your friend and nothing more. That you were better off without me complicating things."

"I understand." She said. "You are not to blame for that. I made you think that it was what I wanted. But why should that matter now, when we are together at last?" She asked, confused.

He absently fiddled with the ax at his waist as he tried to string together the words he wanted to say. He needed to get this just right so that she would understand. He wished, not for the first time, that he had her talent for always choosing the perfect words to express her meaning.

"It _does _matter." He answered finally. "And I _am _to blame. I promised you that I would be here for you and I wasn't. I thought I was doing what was right for you, but I ended up leaving you all alone. If only I would have been _around_ more, I would have seen that you needed me...that you wanted me too...that you were waiting for me."

She swiftly crossed the space between them and wrapped her arms around him. "What is this all about, Will? Tell me." She asked, holding him and looking up into his face.

"During those times when I wasn't there for you...I was _here_." And he gestured toward the space around them.

When he didn't elaborate, she asked softly, "Thinking about your father?"

"Sometimes. But mostly about you. You and me and our baby. I was making something for the baby. Something I want to show you." He told her, gently removing himself from her embrace, reaching into the hollow base of the giant tree trunk behind him and pulling something out. "I tried to pour all of my feelings for you into making this. I thought it might help me focus on something besides how much I love you. It _didn't_, but I wanted you to at least understand where I've been and what I've been doing."

For a second, Djaq had no idea what she was being shown. It seemed to resemble a wooden box of sorts. But as he turned it over and held it out to her expectantly, her eyes lit up and a smile quickly spread across her face. "You made the baby a cradle? Will, it is _beautiful_." And it was. It was smooth, and polished, and perfectly symmetrical. Not that she would expect anything less from him. And it had a subtly curved bottom and high sides, to ensure that a baby wouldn't be tipped out while being rocked gently to sleep. Not only that, but he'd carved a design on both the head and foot boards.

She took it from his hands in order to peer at the design more closely. "Oh." Was all she could manage at first. "I do not know what to say." She was simply astonished. There, across the head and foot of the cradle, he had carved the desert. _Her _desert. She ran her fingers over intricately carved sand dunes, an oasis and what appeared to be date palms. A big, round sun in a wide, clear sky spread across the top.

But the most incredible, most absolutely _brilliant_ part, was the camel. Yes, it _must_ be a camel. It was bigger and taller than any horse she'd ever seen and it had four knobby legs and a distinct hump upon its back. Strictly speaking, it's face was a _teeny_ bit longer than it should be, but who cared? He'd carved her a camel and it was _perfect_! Perfect just like its creator. She had no idea how he had managed such a thing. She knew he was talented, but this...

"How did you do this?" She asked, staring at the magnificent creation in her hands.

He shrugged modestly. "I just _carved_ it. So do you like it?" He asked hopefully.

"I love it. Of course I do. It's beautiful, I told you. But I meant how did you know _what_ to carve? Did Much help you? Or Robin?" They were the only two members of their group who had ever seen the desert. Will, she knew, had never been more than a few miles outside of Nottingham.

"No." He shook his head. "No one else has seen it. I wanted to show you first."

"Then how? I do not understand. You have never seen these things. How could you know?"

"_You _told me." He said earnestly. "Whenever you talk about home, you always describe every detail and make everything sound so wonderful that I try to picture it in my head. And this is how I see it. I know there's a lot more to your country than just sand and stuff, and I'm sure it doesn't even come close to the real thing, but I wanted our baby to see at least a part of where you come from. I want him or her to know that England is only one of its homes."

"Oh, Will." Incredibly touched, she turned the cradle over one more time and slowly ran a finger over the image of the camel before handing it back to him. "Our baby will be the luckiest child ever born." She said in a voice heavy with emotion.

"It's just a cradle." He blushed, taking it from her and placing it back inside of the tree trunk where it wouldn't be damaged by the elements. When he'd turned back to her, he added quickly, "But I'm glad you like it." In fact, that was quite and understatement. He hadn't realized until that moment just how afraid he'd really been that she wouldn't.

"It is _not _just a cradle." She replied seriously. "It is a work of art and you know it. It is absolutely perfect and I _do _like it...I _love _it." She looked up into his eyes and slid her arms around his waist, feeling him relax against her. He laced his fingers around the back of her neck and stroked her cheek gently with his thumb. "But I was not referring to the cradle when I said that our child will be lucky."

"Oh." He looked at her, confused.

"I was referring to _you_." She saw that his look of confusion only deepened and she knew that she would have to explain. She thought once again how he was simply _far _too humble.

"What am I going to do with you? Hm? Do you really not know what an incredible man you are? How is that possible? There is no other man like you, anywhere. There never _could_ be." She softly rubbed her cheek back and forth against his palm and looked deep into his eyes.

"You will never know how fortunate I count myself to be your wife and the mother of your child. And I am so proud of all of the things that you will share with our son or daughter. Your strength, your honor, your courage and wisdom. And I promise you this...I will spend every single day of the rest of my life showing you that I know just how extraordinary you really are."

He just looked at her for a moment, trying to absorb the meaning behind her words. Did she really see him that way? She was such an amazing woman that he'd always felt somewhat inferior to her. It wasn't that he didn't believe he was a good man, because he _did_. He was proud of the choices he'd made and that he always tried his best at whatever he did. He knew that he helped people...saved lives, even...and that he was a valuable member of Robin's gang. He'd just never believed himself to be worthy of _her_.

She had never said or done anything to _make _him feel that way. He supposed that it was just the fact that he had always been so in awe of her...of her strength and determination and knowledge. So to hear her say that she saw something extraordinary in him and, especially, that she believed that he had something of value to offer their baby, made his heart positively soar. "I love you, Djaq." And he leaned in and kissed her softly on the lips.

"And I love _you_. So much. I should have made sure that you knew it." She said, leaning her head against his chest and closing her eyes. She could hear the steady rhythm of his heartbeat and feel the gentle rise and fall of his breathing and she felt more at peace than at any other time in her life.

"Being with you today told me everything I ever wanted to know." He whispered as he kissed her hair and wrapped his arms around her, rocking her slowly back and forth. She was _his_. Really and truly his.

They just held each other for a moment, both feeling so grateful to finally be able to do just that.

"So are we taking the cradle back to the camp?" Djaq asked him after a moment of peaceful quiet.

"It's not quite finished yet." He answered, causing her to lean back just enough to look up at him with a smirk.

"What?" He asked, smiling at the look she gave him. He had a feeling that look would always make his heart do back flips.

"You. That is what. It looked perfectly finished to me and I want to take it." She said, poking him in the ribs playfully.

"But I _told_ you, it's not finished. I'll bring it to camp as soon as I'm done." He told her.

"If I leave it up to you, you will never declare it ready. You will always try to find some reason why it is not perfect." She sighed in mock exasperation. "I hope that I will have it by the time that the baby needs a place to sleep."

"I promise." He said, laughing quietly. It was so comforting to find that, even after so much confusion between them, she still seemed to know him so well.

"We shall see." She teased in a sing song voice.

"As much as I hate to say it, it's getting late and I remember you said that you had a lot to do before the meeting. So are you ready to head back to the castle now? But wait, shouldn't you be wearing Saracen robes? The Sheriff or his men might recognize you otherwise." He pointed out in a concerned voice.

"I hid my robe and veil just outside of the castle. I will duck behind something and throw them on over my clothes right before I sneak in." She told him.

He looked at her questioningly.

"Will, as suspicious as it would look to have a Saracen woman walking about the castle dressed like _this_, I would be equally suspicious walking throughout Nottingham dressed like _that_. Don't you agree?" She asked, finding it rather amusing that he hadn't considered the matter of what she was wearing until that moment.

"Oh. Right. Of course." He actually hadn't thought of that.

"And yes, I suppose that I probably _should_ go back now. There _is_ much that I need to do before tonight and I had not intended to be away for so long." She said, holding out her hand to him. "But I would not change this afternoon for anything in the world." She added, wondering how on earth she was suppose to do without him for the next several hours.

"Neither would I." And he took her hand in his as they descended the slope.

As they walked through the forest in the direction of the castle, Djaq nudged him playfully with her shoulder and said, "Now, aren't you glad that we did not bring a chaperone with us today as you suggested?"

"Yes, very!" He said quickly, thinking about how differently the day would have gone had there been a third party to contend with.

When they reached the outskirts of Nottingham, Djaq stopped and handed him the pouch containing the seeds that they had collected earlier. "Will you take these seeds to camp for me? I will deal with them later."

He took the pouch, but looked at her quizzically, wondering why she was giving it to him _now_. They still had a way to go before reaching the castle.

Seeing the question in his eyes, she stated, "I think that you should not go any further with me. We should part here. It will be safer for everyone."

She found that she actually had to struggle with herself to get the words out, for she suddenly felt that nothing in the world could be worse than parting with him. This attachment, this irrational need to stay with him was so alien to her that she did not even have a name for it. It made no sense. It made her feel like a weak and foolish child. And it was impractical. Still, it was nearly impossible to ignore.

"Why? I'll go with you all the way to the castle and then, once you're inside, I'll leave." He offered.

"Then you will have to, not only slip _in_ through the gates, but back out as well without being detected. No. That is too much risk and exposure for absolutely no reason. This is best." And she knew the truth of her words. There was absolutely no good reason for him to accompany her. None at all. It was dangerous and unnecessary and could ruin all of their plans. So why did she secretly want him to? It was not like her.

Will desperately wanted to argue with her. He wanted to come up with some reason why it was necessary for him to walk the rest of the way with her. Something other than _I need to be there to protect you in case something happens on the way_, which seemed unlikely to do more than anger her, or _I love you so much that every moment away from you feels like forever_, which sounded silly even in his head. But he couldn't come up with anything more practical, and he knew how strong and independent she was and that it would be wrong to try to cling to her.

"Okay, I guess. If you're sure." He said, not at all convincingly, as she started to walk away after kissing him softly on the lips.

After walking a few feet, she turned back towards him. "You will come with Robin tonight?"

"I'll be there." He replied, finding it very difficult to stay put as she smiled at him and turned once again toward Nottingham and who knew _what_ dangers.

After she had walked but a short distance, however, she spun around and, much to his great surprise, ran back to where he stood and flung herself, unceremoniously, into his arms with all of the unguarded vulnerability of a child.

"I love you, Will." She said breathlessly, as he held her close.

He realized then that it must be as hard for her to walk away from him as it was for him to watch her go. They had been apart for so long before today and their afternoon together had been so perfect with the two of them in their own little world, that it made sense for there to be a period of adjustment for them both. But he also knew that, considering the way their lives were set up, there would be many occasions when they would have to be apart and the sooner they got over the initial anguish of such separations, the better.

He could not follow her around like some sort of lovesick fool _or _bodyguard, and she could not permit herself to get lost completely in him. That, he knew, had been one of her biggest fears regarding intimacy with him since the beginning. Self-sufficiency was something Djaq prided herself on and she had worked hard for it. She would only end up resenting their relationship if it robbed her of something that was so vital a part of who she was. He didn't want that, so he kissed her once on the forehead and then reluctantly loosened his hold on her.

"I'll see you tonight, _habibi_." He said lovingly, tucking a wisp of hair behind her ear.

She smiled at the warmth that flooded her body upon hearing him call her that again. But she knew that it would simply not do for her to behave like a child whenever there was a task to complete that took them away from one another. She would have to find some means of sharing herself with him completely, which was so very new to her, while still being who and what she needed to be.

Still, it was a long time before she was ready to relinquish contact, but once she was, she made a concentrated and determined effort to be strong. So at last she let go of him and, after a deep breath, said with a smile, "I will see you tonight, then." And she turned and walked purposefully in the direction of the castle without looking back.

Will watched her go until she was completely out of sight, forcing himself not to follow. He had no wish to make things any harder for her. He then turned and made his own way back to their camp, his mind and senses overflowing with the memories of the sight, sound, and feel of their bodies together. Of the way she'd looked at him, the words she'd spoken, and the way it felt to hold her in his arms. He couldn't help but smile at such thoughts and he wondered when he'd be able to be with her that way again. He couldn't believe the joy and absolute freedom he felt at the realization that today was just the first in a lifetime of moments they would share.

When he reached the camp, he found only Much there, completely absorbed in one of his top-to-bottom cleaning projects. Since these were usually accompanied by frequent shrieks, fits, and tirades, Will deduced that the others must have fled the camp in order to either avoid helping, spare their sanity, or both. He placed Djaq's herb pouch down at her work station and called out, "Hey, Much. Where is everybody?"

"Oh. You're back." He said, looking up from the pile of old rags, discarded chicken bones, and unused fletching feathers he'd collected from every corner of the camp. If he had a pence for every time he'd given the lads a lecture on putting things in their proper place, Much would be a very rich man by now. Yes, a very rich man, indeed. But today, when he'd tried to remind them of the importance of keeping things neat, they had all suddenly remembered tasks that needed doing away from camp, leaving Much all alone to do the work himself, as usual.

"Well," Much continued. "Robin went off to the castle to try and visit with Marian, and John and Allan have gone out to hunt up some meat for tonight's meal. I told them we still had plenty of the bacon Djaq brought around this morning, but they insisted on going anyway. So did Djaq go back to the castle?"

"Yeah." Will sighed, missing her terribly. "Hey, do you know if Robin's coming back here before going to meet with her and Rashid later tonight?"

"I dunno." Much shrugged. "He didn't say. Oh no, wait. He did say that he'd be back in time for supper. So I guess that means yes. Why?"

"Just wondering is all. I told Djaq I would go to the meeting with Robin."

"Oh. That's nice." Much said, only half interested, as he tried to determine how much of what was stuffed under Allan's bunk was actual rubbish and which of it Much would get yelled at for getting rid of.

"Yeah." Will sighed once again, wondering how he was going to be able to sleep without her next to him tonight if she ended up staying at the castle. Even though he had slept without her every other night of his life, he didn't think he could ever go back to that now. Not after being with her today...after holding her and kissing her and loving her.

Much's words broke into his thoughts. "So did she get enough of what she needed today? She always gets so excited. I'm telling you, she likes it more than is normal. She probably wore you out, pulling you this way and that. I think she'd keep at it all day if she could."

"_W-What_?" Will spluttered, choking on the water he had just taken a sip of and turning a vibrant shade of red that was only partly due to his sudden coughing fit.

"You two went off to gather herbs, right? I know how much Djaq enjoys it and I was just wondering if she got enough of the ones she needed before she had to go back to the castle." Much explained with all of the wide-eyed innocence of a new-born babe. "Gracious, Will. Don't drink so fast next time." He admonished, patting him on the back.

"Oh, right." Will recovered himself as best he could. "Yeah. Yeah, she um...she got what she needed." He couldn't help almost smiling to himself. A change in subject was _definitely_ in order. "So did Allan and John say when they'd be back?"

"Not for a while, I expect. Unless they're unusually lucky today. They left just a bit before you got here."

"Oh." Will really wanted to speak with Allan. "I guess I'll wait then. You need some help?"

"Really?" Much asked, eyes narrowed as he studied Will for a moment. "Is this a joke? If I say yes, are you going to make some _oh-so-clever_ comment about me needing mental help or something?" Although, if he were honest, Will was the member of the gang _least_ likely to make fun of him and _most_ likely to help him out around camp.

"No, Much. It's not a joke." Will laughed, collecting dirty socks from under his own bed and feeling incredibly glad to have some way of distracting himself from thoughts of those teasing eyes and pouting lips and of all the perfect moments the two of them had shared today. "Um, Much?"

"Huh?" He responded distractedly while smoothing out Robin's bedroll.

"Do you know any lullabies?"


	18. Behind Masks and Veils

******Behind Masks and Veils**

Djaq sat in her room at the castle, now fully robed and veiled, waiting for Rashid to come in and speak with her. She had just returned from her outing with Will and both her mind and heart were full nearly to the point of bursting. She couldn't remember ever being so happy or hopeful in her entire life. These feelings couldn't help but spill over onto her thoughts regarding her mission and she found herself really believing that they might actually have a chance at stopping Prince John and Rashid's father from succeeding at their attempts to disrupt the peace negotiations.

She drummed her fingers impatiently on the arm of her chair, wishing she didn't have to sit around in her chamber, inactive, while Rashid came to _her_. She wanted to mingle amongst the servants and staff that he had brought with him from Acre in the hopes of discovering which of them were most likely to try to impede Robin's plan and, therefore, needed to be kept out of the way until everything was complete. But, of course, she knew that the fewer people who were aware of her presence there, the better, and so she had to remain in the shadows.

Their plans would run much more smoothly that way. As certain as she was that the Sheriff and his men would not notice one additional Saracen strolling about the castle, she was equally certain that the same could not be said for Rashid's people. Of _course_ they would take notice of the fact that their number had increased by one since arriving in Nottingham. They would wonder why none of them had ever seen her before and who on earth she was.

Those questions were not so easily answered, however, if they were to trick not only Prince John and the Sheriff, but Rashid's father as well. It was imperative that Rashid, for his own safety, be able to return home and convince his father that they had both been double-crossed by Prince John. This would become a much more difficult task if his father ever got wind of some mysterious Saracen who had vanished from his son's party just as suddenly and as thoroughly as she had taken up residence with them. So she would have to find some way of remaining hidden while she observed them and decided who among them could not be trusted.

The matter of having to sit passively in her chamber was not the only reason for her impatience, however. She was, in fact, having an extremely difficult time counting down the hours until she could once again see her husband. She found herself hoping that, once Rashid had met with Robin in person tonight and had heard his proposal, he would be much more confident in their endeavor and less likely to want her to stay close at hand and spend another night there. Robin was a very charismatic man and an impassioned plea from him was often enough to sway even the most reluctant participants over to his way of thinking.

Perhaps Will had been right and the plan did not require her constant presence. Perhaps she really _could_ just check in with Rashid periodically. She had, after all, been away for a few hours today and nothing had seemed amiss upon her return. Perhaps she was just being controlling and trying way too hard to manage every little detail because this particular mission was so very personal for her. Maybe she should really back off and trust that, once Robin and Rashid had spoken, and thanks to the groundwork that she herself had lain, things would progress along their proper course.

Although she certainly hadn't _imagined_ Rashid's nervousness, nor the way that he seemed to waiver between doing what he knew to be right and what he believed to be safe. He really did seem to need her reassurances that she understood his concerns and doubts and that she had taken _them,_ as well as his own personal stake in this, into account. And she honestly _did _understand. He was petrified of his father's wrath if he were discovered to have gone against family interests, and afraid of the danger he would be in if the Sheriff or Prince John uncovered his duplicity. It made sense.

Frankly, his fears were not only warranted, but she suspected that even _he_ did not fully appreciate the peril he was placing himself in by assisting Robin and making a distinct move toward peace between their countries. But perhaps meeting with Robin would put his mind at ease a bit regarding the finer points their plan. Maybe he would find the courage he had thus far been lacking. Then maybe she could happily return to camp with Will and sleep in his bed and wake up in his arms at long last.

Just then there was a knock at the door. "_Enter_." She called and was greeted with the timid nod of Aminah.

"_The Master apologizes for the continued delay, My Lady. He is still occupied. May I be of any assistance while you wait?_" She asked quietly.

"_Is he still taking a meal with Sheriff Vaysey?_" Djaq inquired. She had informed Rashid that it was important to continue to play the happy and pampered guest so as not to arouse any suspicion.

"_He is, My Lady. All should be concluded shortly, however, and then he will join you. Have you eaten? Shall I have something brought for you?_"

Djaq had not eaten since breakfast and was, indeed, rather hungry. Although, she reminded herself, she _had_ eaten breakfast twice. _But_, as Much was fond of reminding her,she _was_ eating for two now and so her usual habit of simply skipping a meal when she was too occupied to stop and eat was something she simply could not afford right now. Still, she felt extremely odd about having Aminah wait on her hand and foot. She much preferred to see to her own needs, but that was impossible here at the castle.

"_I would appreciate that. Thank you very much._"

"_Of course, My Lady._" She answered with a bow before turning back towards the door.

A short time later, as Djaq was finishing her meal, Rashid arrived to meet with her.

"_Forgive me, Saffiya. I did not intend to keep you waiting so long." _He told her as soon as Aminah had departed with her empty dishes.

"_Not at all. I understand." _

"_Did all go well with you today? You seemed quite eager to meet with your friends this morning and now your mood seems to be a very cheerful one. I take it that our plans are moving along as they should then?" _He asked.

"_Everything went very well today, yes. I am extremely hopeful of a good outcome."_ She said honestly. Although she knew that her mood had much more to do with Will than plans and strategies.

"_I am glad." _He told her, taking the seat she offered.

"_Rashid, I wonder if there might be a way for me to observe some of your staff without being seen by them. I do not need to see all of them, only the ones who are in a position to be detrimental to our shared cause. Anyone who has access to private communications or information, anyone likely to report directly to your father upon your return, and anyone likely to be open to bribery by anyone here in England. It would be even more beneficial if I could see how they interact with you _and_ one another. Would that be at all possible?"_

"_You are hoping to expose anyone who may be a spy?" _He asked.

"_Not _expose_, necessarily. That would only open us up to further suspicion. I merely wish to identify them so that we may find some way of keeping them engaged while we go about our work. If we can create some useless but seemingly important tasks to occupy their time and keep them out of our way, they will be far less likely to stumble upon anything that may be damaging to you or to our plans. Do you understand?"_

"_I believe so, yes." _He watched the woman before him and tried to pick out traces of the girl he had once known. She was still as quick and confident as she ever was, it seemed. But now there was a much deeper understanding of the world. All bought and paid for with her sorrow, no doubt. Her life had been a series of misfortunes, he knew.

"_So can we arrange some means for me to observe them? Perhaps you can ask them all to assemble in one room while you make some sort of announcement. It need not be anything important, only it should be nothing so insignificant that gathering an assembly in order to hear it would arouse suspicion. We could arrange a place for me to hide beforehand, so that I am already in place when everyone enters the room. That way I will have an opportunity to take note of who among them seems to pay an inordinate amount of attention to your announcement and also who seems far too discreet." _

"_Too discreet? Would that not be a virtue?" _He asked.

"_Some amount of discretion is, indeed, to be expected and even demanded, yes. But there will always be some exchange of information among servants. You know that as well as I. There will be glances, nods, whispers. Both covert and otherwise. Anyone who makes too determined an effort to avoid such interactions may well be a problem for us." _She explained.

"_But what if you are wrong and someone is merely displaying the proper reverence for their master?" _He asked in a desperate voice. He really had no idea how far she intended to take these security measures and he was uncomfortable with the idea of innocent people being hurt.

"_It will matter little if I am mistaken. No one will be singled out or alerted to our suspicions. Nor will there be any reprisals. We will merely be keeping them busy until such a time as they pose us no threat. Do not worry, Rashid. No one will be harmed. You may trust me on this." _She told him soothingly.

"_I do trust you, Saffiya. If I did not, I would surely be unable to even consider such a bold step as defying my father. Even for such a worthy cause. Even now, when he will never learn of my defiance, I can not breathe easily. But I do trust you." _And he meant it.

"_I am glad. And I am hopeful that you will feel much more at ease once you speak with Robin in person tonight. He will explain all of the details of what we are to do regarding the funds. You will find that peace means as much to him as it does to us. As I have told you, he is a good man and I think that you will like him. Now, shall we work on coming up with some important-sounding announcement for you to make in front of your staff?" _She readied herself to get down to business.

"_Actually, Saffiya, there was something that I wished to discuss with you." _He said carefully.

"_Certainly_."

"_When we have completed our work here and Prince John's money is back in the hands of his people rather than on its way across the sea to my father, what will you do?" _He asked her.

"_I do not understand your meaning." _She stated. Although, in truth, she thought that she had a fairly good idea of what he was working up to.

"_Surely you will have no wish to stay in this land. I understand your loyalty to these men who saved your life and it is admirable. But I am sure that they would wish you to return to your own land and live in happiness amongst your _own_ people. You were brought here against your will and you have been extremely fortunate in the friends you have made. I am incredibly grateful to them, especially, when I consider all of the fates that could have befallen a young woman on her own in a foreign land. Even one as skilled at fighting and self preservation as you are, Saffiya. But I am certain that if they are, indeed, your friends, they will wish you well and allow you to travel home with me." _He was trying to be extremely careful not to injure her very strong sense of pride. But he felt that it was his duty to escort her home. He understood better than most the allure of choosing one's own path and throwing off the restrictions imposed by others. He faced the same struggle and he admired her courage in attempting it. But this game of adventure she was playing with these Englishmen could certainly bring her no lasting fulfillment.

"_Rashid, as I explained to you last night and again this morning, I am content.I have a life and a purpose here.I could have returned home at any time, however I chose to stay. This is my home now." _She explained patiently.

"_I expected you to say that and I admire your independence. But you must see reason. You could never really be happy here. These men with whom you have allied yourself may accept you as their comrade when it comes to aiding the poverty-stricken of this land. Surely they are grateful for your assistance. And even more so for your medical knowledge as I understand that the English are quite behind us in this area. But that type of arrangement can not bring you permanent happiness. How could it? And if your concern is that people at home will judge your activities here, then you need not worry. I will say nothing. You may rely upon me. Please consider my request in the spirit in which it is intended. I feel a certain responsibility to you. We grew up together and you and your brother meant a great deal to me. You may not have realized it, but there are things that I feel I would have been unable to survive were it not for the company and the friendship of you and Djaq. I know that if he were here, he would not want this for you._"

Djaq wanted to tell him what an absurd statement he'd just made. Of course, if her brother were still alive her entire _life_ would be different. But he was dead and, while she knew that Rashid meant well, he was _not_ her brother. Instead she decided to reveal a truth of a different kind in the hope of ending his misguiding attempts at rescuing her from England. Then he would have no choice but to accept her decision, whether he liked it or not. _"Rashid, your concern for me is very touching, but there are things that you do not understand. I have not shared certain aspects of my life with you. When I explained to you this morning about sharing a dwelling with those men and fighting by their side in an effort to help their people, I should have given you a more complete account of my life with them. You see--"_

"_Truly, it is not necessary." _He said quickly, throwing his hands up in an effort to stop her saying anything that would cause either of them any embarrassment. He had not intended to force her into revealing unpleasant truths about herself. "_If your life has led you in a direction that has necessitated a divergence from our values and customs, I will not be the one to attempt to shame you for it. I know the grief and despair you have been dealt and I admire the fact that you have carried on where others would surely have given up. I do not doubt your ability to secure your own safety or find your own way in this world. My only concern is for your _happiness_."_

"_Rashid." _She tried again.

"_Saffiya, please. Think of your future. Think about--"_

"_Rashid, I am married." _Apparently bluntness was the only way to get this out.

"_What? Married?" _He said as if searching his mind for the meaning of some obscure word he had not heard in ages.

"_Yes, married. I have a husband. He is English and he is one of the men with whom I fight for justice." _There. Now he would have no choice but to process the information.

"_I see." _He said. The idea had never even occurred to him.

"_He is a good man, Rashid. The best man I have ever known and he loves me and brings me more joy than any one person should be entitled to. So while I appreciate your concern for my happiness, it has already been secured I assure you. You will, in fact, meet my husband tonight." _She hoped that this would put an end to any talk of her leaving England.

"_Your husband is this man, Robin Hood?" _He asked, surprised.

"_No! Oh no. My husband's name is Will Scarlett and he will be coming here _with_ Robin." _She explained immediately.

"_You are married in the Christian way, then?" _He asked after a moment's reflection.

"_In the English way." _She had no idea why she spoke as if there were a distinction to be made. There was, of course, no difference between an English marriage and a Christian one. But she did not think of herself as being married in the _Christian_ way. After all, her marriage was not even a legal one. Not that she would share that bit of information with Rashid. Better not to complicate matters further.

"_And your husband approves of you doing the work that you do? Are English husbands less restrictive when it comes to women's roles?" _

"_English husbands are _not_, but _my_ husband _is_. He trusts me and he is proud of my dedication." _Djaq was relieved that he no longer sounded worried, merely curious now.

"_And are you really and truly happy? Is this a love match, then? You have not married this man out of some...obligation for him rescuing you or giving you a home?"_

"_No I have not. It is very much a love match, I assure you. And I am truly happy." _

"_That eases my mind quite a bit, akhawaat. I did not mean to offend. I was only thinking of you. Please understand." _He told her gently. This was actually somewhat of a relief. As much as he had felt duty bound to help her, he had yet to work out exactly _how_ he would explain her presence once they arrived in Acre. He would have found some way, of course. He would not have simply abandoned her in a foreign land, but it was well and good for both of them that she was happily settled here.

"_I do. And I thank you, Rashid." _She was amused to see a clear look of relief cross his face.

"_Now then, let us work on my announcement. Shall we?" _He said.

"_Indeed." _Now they could get back to the business at hand.

* * *

As evening approached, Will and Much finally succeeded in completing Much's rather long list of chores around camp. Will, for his part, was pleased that the activity, as well as Much's constant running commentary on everything from the slovenly habits of outlaws to the virtues of roasted venison, had made the time pass much more quickly than he was sure it would have otherwise. Although he was not, as he knew he wouldn't be, able to keep thoughts of missing Djaq away from his mind. Still, every hour that passed brought him that much closer to seeing her again.

Just then the hatch swung open and Allan stepped inside followed by John. Will noted that they had either been unsuccessful at hunting or, more likely, had spent their time in the tavern instead. Since he suspected that their excursion had more to do with a strong desire to avoid Much's cleaning regimen than it did with any concern over supplying the outlaws with supper, he concluded that the latter was probably true.

"Hey Allan, John." Will greeted and John nodded in response.

"You're back, then." Allan said, eying Will carefully for any sign that there had been any further trouble between him and Djaq. And then to Much he said, "You better not have disturbed anything under my bed. I've got everything arranged just the way I like it."

Much merely shook his head and started muttering to himself as he began preparations for supper.

"So is Djaq at the castle with what's-his-name?" Allan asked, after doing a quick sweep of the camp and determining that she was not there.

"Rashid. Yeah. Hey, Allan? You got a minute?" Will asked, tilting his head toward the entrance and bidding Allan to follow him out.

"What's up? Something wrong with Djaq?" Allan asked anxiously as soon as they'd exited and had stepped out of earshot of the others.

"Oh no. She's fine. Sorry. Nothing's wrong. I just wanted to talk to you alone for a minute." He said, taking a deep breath.

"Alright." Allan waited, not knowing what to expect. He and Will had spent very little time together over the past few months. And any time they _had_ talked, it had mostly ended in awkwardness or raised voices.

"I just wanted you to know that I get what you've been trying to do. With Djaq and me, I mean. What you've been trying to tell me." Will said carefully.

"Yeah? And what's that?" Allan questioned, still not sure whether or not he should be defensive. Will didn't seem angry, though.

"Come on. _You_ know. You wanted me to stop running from her long enough to open my eyes and see what was right in front of me. I didn't think you understood. But it turns out you understood better than I did. I should have listened instead of losing my temper when you were only trying to help. Thanks. For trying." He said sincerely, meeting Allan's skeptical gaze.

Allan looked at his friend carefully. There was something in his eyes and in the way he spoke and stood. Something that Allan had never seen before. Something more..._what_? Confident? Carefree? Manly, even? Realization dawned on Allan almost instantly. Well well well. This was not what Allan had been expecting after just one day alone together. He'd figured those two would take weeks to work up the courage to get this far.

"Yeah well, you ought to listen to me more often then. You'll find I know quite a bit about women." He said, quirking his eyebrow.

"So you keep telling me."

"Seriously though. I'm glad everything's finally working out." He said. And he really meant it. No two people deserved happiness more. There was a twinge of regret in there somewhere, he was sure. But that was for him, not them. He had always known that once Will and Djaq found their way to each other, there would be very little left over for him. From either of them. So he'd prepared himself for it. He hoped.

"So am I." Will admitted.

"So, now that I've got your undivided attention," Allan said, rubbing his hands together and then clapping them once, loudly, for emphasis. "I should give you some pointers. Just the basics to start with, of course. I don't want to overload you with too much at a time." He offered with a rakish grin.

"Thanks anyway. But I think we've got it covered." Will said in a tone that made clear his intention to end the conversation before it went too far.

"Hey now, speak for yourself. Djaq might appreciate me giving you a few hints and tips." Allan quipped.

"_Allan_." He warned.

"Alright. Alright. I'm just having a little fun with you. Actually, you've really lightened up, mate. Time was you'd have tried to give me a pummeling for making a joke like that. There may be hope for you yet." And he reached up and tousled Will's hair in what he hoped was a big brotherly way, annoying Will to no end.

"_Psst_! Is it safe? To come inside? Has Much finished cleaning?" Both Allan and Will turned to see Robin peering out from behind a tree a few feet from where they stood.

"It's safe." Will told their leader with a laugh.

"Good. Is supper ready?" He asked, walking up.

"Not yet. Almost, I think." Will answered. "Robin? I told Djaq I'd go to the castle with you tonight. That's okay with you, right?"

"I don't see why not." Robin shrugged.

Will nodded. Then, turning once again to Allan before entering camp, he said, "Thanks again, Allan. I mean it."

A few hours later, as Robin and Will started their walk to Nottingham, Robin asked, "So how did it go today? With Djaq?"

"It went fine." Will answered simply. He figured that Robin was just being polite and making conversation.

"Just '_fine' _Will? Are you sure? If there's ever anything you need to talk about, you know that I'm here, right? Because I care about both of you. I've known you since you were a boy and I've watched you grow into a strong and admirable young man. One whom I am proud to call a friend as well as one of my men. And Djaq has come to mean a great deal to me since joining us. I want you both to be happy, and if I can help with that in any way, please don't hesitate to say so."

"Thanks Robin. That means a lot. But really, everything is fine. Better than fine. I really feel like everything is going to be alright. Finally." Will told him.

"Well I'm glad. Truly. You had me a bit worried there for the past several weeks. But I'm glad everything is as it should be now."

As they walked on, Will could hardly contain his excitement over seeing Djaq again. It had only been a few hours, but it seemed so much longer. And if she decided to spend another night at the castle, he had all but made up his mind to hide out all night, as near to her as he could get, just to be sure that she was alright. But he hoped she would come back to camp with him. As he thought about the walk back to camp, he couldn't help but remember that the two of them had started on the same walk yesterday. Right after their _incident _in the castle. Then they had argued terribly and Will had ended up feeling more hopeless than he ever had before. Was that _really_ only yesterday? It seemed like weeks had passed since then. So much had happened in such a short period of time. And now everything was perfect between them at last.

Still, he found himself thinking about yesterday's incident and wondering what exactly had happened. When they were in that corner, and he touched her, he had honestly believed that she'd wanted him as well. And now, come to find out, she really did. So what happened? He remembered the look on her face when he'd leaned down to kiss her and she had most _definitely_ looked scared. So if she wasn't scared of _him_, then of what? And should it even matter now? But somehow it did.

"Say, Will?" Robin said, interrupting his thoughts.

"Yeah?"

"If Djaq determines that this _Rashid_ is going to need her support and that she should stay close by for another day or so, is that going to be a problem for you? I know she's your wife, but it wouldn't be right for you to undermine her in front of him. We need him to trust us and work with us, and the only reason he's willing to do that is because he trusts _her_. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

"I'm not going to undermine her, Robin. I wouldn't _do_ that to her. Besides, she and I discussed it and that's why I'm coming with you tonight. So I can check this guy out for myself and see how safe everything seems. Then if she still feels like she needs to stay, I won't try to stop her." Will explained.

"So you'll just head back to camp and leave her there? _Really_?" Robin asked skeptically.

"Well I didn't say _that_." Will ducked his head with a sheepish grin.

"Yeah, that's what I figured." Robin laughed. "Let me guess. You'll hide somewhere she can't see you and keep an eye on her?"

"I never even _considered_ doing that." Will said, his grin widening and a blush spreading across his cheeks.

* * *

Djaq sat in her chamber, waiting on Robin and Will, with Rashid sitting anxiously at her side. He had arrived but a moment before and now sat, seemingly mesmerized and staring at the open window. Djaq had warned him not to be too startled when the two men climbed in through the window as, not only was it safer than having to make their way up and down the long and guard-laden corridors of the castle, but it seemed to be Robin's preferred method of entry. Always one to enjoy making a grand entrance, Djaq couldn't remember the last time he'd used anyone's front door. Djaq's warning to the man beside her seemed to have done little more than heighten his already rather elevated state of nervousness, however, and she watched in amusement as his eyes grew as wide as saucers each time there was a noise from that direction.

She was dressed in her normal English clothes, having seen no need to continue with any pretense now that Rashid knew most of the circumstances surrounding her life in England. He was, at first, somewhat taken aback by the sight of her exposed face. Naturally he would be. But, much to his credit, he had recovered himself quickly and accepted that this was just one more way in which Djaq had embraced her new life. She felt much more comfortable without her robes and veil, having discovered rather quickly that their suitability and usefulness in dealing with the sand, sun, and winds of the east most decidedly did not extend to the weather in England. She would still wear them, of course, when it came to slipping in and out of the castle for the duration of Rashid's stay in Nottingham, but she thought that she would be quite happy when she could dispose of them once and for all.

Just then two hands and a pair of dirty boots appeared at the window, only to be joined a second later by the rest of Robin's body. As Robin went from crouching on the ledge to standing inside the room with such grace and fluidity that you could almost convince yourself you'd blinked and missed it, Will made his own entrance. Djaq and Rashid had risen and Djaq stepped forward, exchanging a smile with Will in the process, in order to make the proper introductions.

"Rashid abd-al-Rahman ibn Basil ibn Azhar al-Filistini, meet Robin, Earl of Huntington and rightful Lord of Locksley." She spoke in carefully annunciated English. She had chosen to introduce them in English because Rashid had informed her that he was able to speak a bit and understand even more, and she had no doubt that Robin would open with Arabic, so that once the two languages were out there, it would be up to each to choose in which he was most comfortable conversing. She knew that she would still be needed to translate, however, seeing as neither had a complete grasp of the other's language. She had further decided that a _formal_ introduction was in order between the two so that they would feel that they could begin their association on equal ground...both members of a noble class. Though Robin liked to think of himself as a man of the people, it was important for Rashid to know that Robin understood his position in his father's household and in society.

The two men nodded at one another respectfully .

"_As-Salamu Alaykum_." Robin greeted.

"_Alaykum As-Salaam._" Rashid returned pleasantly, albeit nervously, with the first hint of a smile.

She noticed that Rashid's eyes flicked almost immediately to Will, who was standing, with a look of mild curiosity mixed with caution, at Robin's side. Rashid then smiled broadly in Will's direction as she made their introduction.

"Rashid, I would like for you to meet Will Scarlett, my husband." She said carefully.

Both Will and Robin shot her a questioning look that was replaced almost immediately with one of pure surprise as Rashid stepped forward and gripped both of Will's arms saying, in very broken English, "I am happy knowing you. Saffiya is a sister to me and so you are my brother."

It was all so incredibly funny in a way. The fact that Rashid was clearly more excited to meet Djaq's husband than the famous Robin Hood, the look on Robin's face as realization of this fact dawned on him, not to mention the priceless look of shock and uncertainty on the face of said husband, all succeeded in making a part of Djaq want to laugh out loud. She did not, of course, as that would be highly inappropriate. But it was very funny, none the less.

"Um. Thank you?" Will replied uncertainly. And then, after clearing his throat and taking a deep breath, he said with a smile, "I'm glad to meet you."

With the awkwardness over for the moment, the group moved to take their seats to begin. Robin and Rashid took opposite chairs, facing one another, while Will and Djaq sat side by side on the divan.

"I know that you have heard some rather unpleasant things about me and what I do." Robin began. "But I assure you none of that is true. My only agenda is seeing to it that the poor and the oppressed of this land get the help that they have been denied for so long. There are greedy and corrupt men in charge here in the absence of King Richard and we do what we can to lessen people's burdens. That is all. This money that your father is attempting to collect was made on the backs of good and hardworking people. The money is rightfully theirs and should be returned to them. Not used to continue a war that has taken the lives of far too many on both sides. It is my understanding that King Richard and Saladin want peace between our nations and I believe that we must do everything within our power to help secure that outcome."

While Robin spoke, Djaq kept a careful eye on Rashid and quickly translated any time he seemed unable to follow what was being said. He was clearly open-minded about Robin and she was pleased by that fact. Especially considering the convincing it took this morning just to get him to agree to meet with a former Crusader. She was finding it very difficult to be seated so close to Will, though, and not at least hold his hand. Of course, she had spent many occasions near him and willing herself not touch him, but after what had taken place between them today and the understanding they finally shared, everything was different. But she had to devote all of her attention to what was passing between the two men in front of her. Too much was at stake for her to allow any misunderstandings.

Rashid then replied to Robin in Arabic, having apparently exhausted his limited supply of English. "_As I have informed Saffiya, I greatly admire your dedication to peace as well as assisting those in need. Peace and charity are both very important tenets of Islam and I am heartened to find that your people and mine are not so different as some would have us believe. Still, I must admit to some trepidation regarding this endeavor. I am not a man of intrigue and my father chose me for this assignment because of my blood rather than my skills. However I wish to be a servant of peace rather than war, so I would very much like to hear your plans."_

Will watched as Djaq translated Rashid's words to Robin. She sat on the edge of her seat and wore a look of sheer determination. He was reminded, once again, of just how personal and important this mission was to her he sincerely hoped that they wouldn't fail. He really didn't know how she would accept failure in this instance and he didn't want to her to have to find out. He wished so badly that he could put an arm around her shoulders at least, and show her his support. But that would be out of line in such a formal situation.

He also watched Rashid carefully. Although he could not understand the majority of what the man said, that did not stop him from being able to form an opinion on the man's sincerity. In fact, it made it easier. Will had always found that most people say one thing when they mean another, and so you had to be particularly alert in order to properly read their intentions. But being unable to understand Rashid's words allowed him to focus solely on his demeanor. Will watched his facial expressions and the way he made eye contact with Robin and with Djaq, and he decided that Rashid was being honest in his desire to work with them. Still, he was extremely nervous and seemed to rely on Djaq's assurances even more than Will had expected. He could certainly see now why Djaq worried about not being near enough to calm his fears when they arose.

"My thinking was that you would inform Vaysey of your intention to return home as soon as the payment is ready." Robin explained. "If he seems curious about why you've had this sudden change of heart, just tell him you've grown tired of the English weather and miss your homeland. I can't imagine that he would be very suspicious anyway, considering the fact that he assumes that you want this deal to go through as much as Prince John does. The important thing is for you to insist on having the funds turned over to you as soon as possible. Tell him you would feel more secure knowing that they are guarded by your own men. If you can arrange to have the money in your possession for at least a few days prior to your departure, that would give us enough time to do our part."

He waited while Djaq translated and answered the many questions Rashid seemed to have, then continued. "The Sheriff and Prince John will make certain that your retinue is heavily guarded on your return trip. They will assume that my men and I will try to relieve you of your money as you travel out of Nottingham. However, while you are still in the castle, they will, no doubt, believe that the money is quite secure. After all, you have your own guards and they believe your wing of the castle to be a safe place. We will then make a switch while the money is _here_. We will remove the money and fill the bottom of the chests with something of comparable weight, leaving only enough coins to lay on top in the unlikely event that the Sheriff decides to make a last minute check. The Sheriff will assume that the money is securely on its way to the Holy Land, and when you arrive at home, you will pretend to be just as shocked and angry as your father that you have been tricked. When Prince John learns that no bribes have been payed out, he will assume that your father has kept the money for himself, thereby double-crossing _him_. Not only will we be preventing this money from falling into the wrong hands, but we will virtually eliminate any possibility of your father and Prince John ever trusting one another enough to work together in future."

Rashid seemed to think the plan was a good one, but was incredibly nervous about his part in it. He was completely uneasy and asked numerous questions, some more than once. Djaq answered many of his questions and also translated many of them for Robin to answer. It was eventually decided that Rashid would inform the Sheriff of his intention to collect his money and leave at a banquet that was being given in his honor tomorrow night. Then they would have to wait until the money was in Rashid's hands before proceeding any further. After they had once again gone over the finer points of the plan and were ready to conclude their meeting, Robin asked Rashid for his indulgence while he spoke with Will and Djaq in private for a moment.

"I see what you mean about him being nervous." Robin observed.

"Yes. He is still uncertain, but I believe that he will do his part." Djaq answered.

"Do you feel that he is confident enough to stay strong once you are no longer here with him at the castle?" Robin asked.

Djaq looked back and forth between Will and Robin. She wanted so desperately to go back to camp with Will. She would be terribly lonely here all by herself, and she truly wanted to say that Rashid was fine with everything. But she knew that it was not so.

"It's alright." Will told her, seeing the torn look on her face. "I understand now what you were saying about his resolve not being very strong. If you feel that you must stay here, I'll support that."

"It's up to you, Djaq. I would never ask you to stay here if you're uncomfortable." Robin told her.

"I appreciate that, both of you. I think that I must stay. That way I will be here in the morning or even tonight if he has more questions. He is uneasy, as you have seen." She said, in a resigned voice.

Robin nodded and then stepped away to give Will and Djaq a moment together before Rashid returned and Will and Robin departed.

"I'm sorry." She said to Will.

"No. It's alright." He said, quietly slipping an arm around her waist. "I really do understand. I'll miss you terribly, but we knew this might happen. Will you come home tomorrow, at least for a while? Or I could come here to see you."

"I will go to the camp tomorrow. After Rashid and I have spoken some more. I have no doubt he will wish me to explain the entire plan again in detail." She laughed, but it lacked any humor.

"I love you." He whispered. And then, casting a quick glance to where Robin stood, he leaned down and kissed her swiftly.

"I love you." She said, wishing for so much more than one quick kiss.

At that moment Rashid quietly knocked at the door and entered. "_Well, Saffiya. I suppose that you will be returning to your home with your husband. I apologize for keeping you from him last night. Had I known you were a married woman, I would not have suggested you stay here without him."_

"_No, Rashid, it is alright. Will understands that you have many questions and concerns over all that has been proposed tonight and he has given his consent to me staying if it will ease your mind." _She informed him.

He seemed to seriously consider it and then said, "_No. It would not be right. It is unfair of me to ask. Perhaps we may meet sometime tomorrow, if you are able? Unless...I do not suppose that your husband would consent to staying here _with_ you. I confess that I do feel more empowered when you are close at hand. I wish I were more confident in such endeavors. I am truly sorry for imposing on both of you."_

"_Nonsense. This plan and its outcome are very important to all of us, Rashid. And you must not apologize for being overwhelmed by the situation. Most people would feel the same. But would you really allow my husband and myself to both stay here for the night?" _She asked.

"_Yes of course. I would not expect you to stay otherwise. But will he agree?"_

She turned to Robin and Will and saw that Robin had understood Rashid's suggestion and was quietly explaining it to Will who was nodding at her happily. Turning back to Rashid, she said excitedly, "_Yes. We will stay tonight. So if you have further questions, please do not hesitate to come to me. I want you to be comfortable with our plan."_

This was really much more than she had hoped for. Not only would she be doing what was necessary for their mission as well as being able to spend the night with Will, but they would have this room all to themselves for the night. They would never have such privacy again, she was certain, considering that their options were a camp filled with outlaws and the open forest. So it was with thinly veiled impatience that she and Will bid both Robin and Rashid a good night. Once the two men had departed, one through the door and one through the window, she turned to her husband and gave him the kiss that she had been wanting to give him all night.

* * *

They were avoiding the bed and they both knew it. Neither had brought it up but it was understood. There it was in the center of the room, covered in furs and silks and cushions, looking comfortable and inviting and doing its level best to tempt them towards it. Yet neither of them would even allow themselves a glance in that direction.

It was an hour or so after Robin and Rashid had left them alone, and they were seated, once again, on the divan. Except that this time, rather than sitting side by side and wishing they could touch, Will was semi-reclining while Djaq leaned against him. She had her head against his chest and he had an arm wrapped protectively around her middle with his hand resting on her stomach. They had removed their shoes and weapons some time ago and were relaxing together and talking quietly. They were actually rather comfortable. Except for the fact that...well...they were avoiding the bed.

There shouldn't have been any awkwardness between them regarding intimate relations. None at all. They were married, for goodness sake and they had, as Djaq reasoned to herself, already made love twice. Once just that afternoon. So there was absolutely no reason for shyness or uncertainty. And both times had been wonderful and absolutely perfect. Although, if she were truthful with herself, she had to admit that _that_ was probably why they were so hesitant.

Perfection was a hard act to follow. Both of their times together so far had been strikingly similar in many respects. Neither she nor Will had been expecting it to happen, for one thing. Plus, they had both been so overcome by their sudden realizations that the other person shared their feelings, that their lovemaking had carried a definite air of desperation. Both frantically stripping out of their clothes and only stopping long enough for Will to make sure that she was comfortable. Then they had clung to one another like two starved bodies in dire need of something that only the other could provide. And they had taken each other to places that rivaled even their most vivid fantasies.

So where do you _go_ from there? Now that they were no longer desperate or surprised, frantic or hurried, they were somewhat unsure as to how to go about the next step. Neither of them knew quite how normal marital intimacy was supposed to work. Just how did one approach everyday, calm, _it hasn't been years since we've done this_ sex? Should one of them bring it up...broach the subject and begin a conversation about it? Should one of them simply _start_ it? Or ask permission first? Or should there be some sort of silent agreement instinctively understood by both? Did it begin with a kiss or a touch or a look? Djaq really had no clue and she didn't think that Will did either. It was uncharted territory for both of them. Hence, the avoidance of the bed.

"So do you think Robin went straight back to the camp or do you suppose he stopped in to see Marian first?" Will asked, lightly stroking her hair with his free hand.

"What do _you_ think?" She smirked. "Although, come to think of it, the hour is rather late and she may not react well to suddenly waking to find him standing in the middle of her chamber."

"True. Maybe she'll do one of those back flip cartwheel things on him before she realizes who he is." He chuckled, causing Djaq to lift her head slightly as his chest vibrated.

"Or maybe even after she knows who it is." She said, shifting against him to once again find a comfortable position.

"Why would she do _that_?" He asked, rather amused at the thought.

"To keep him on his toes? To teach him a lesson? I don't know. I suspect that those two enjoy fighting with one another nearly as much as they enjoy getting along." She mused.

"You know, I think you're right. Why do you think that is? I've never understood it myself."

"Perhaps they fight so that they will have a reason to make up afterward." She offered.

"So then maybe it's not the arguing they like, but the making up?" He asked as if the whole idea now suddenly made a bit of sense to him.

"Who knows?" She shrugged.

"Well I don't wanna do that with you." He said decidedly, nuzzling her hair and tightening his grip at her waist.

"What? Make up?" She teased, snuggling closer.

"No. Fight. Not ever. We can make up, but let's skip the part where we fight first. Okay?" And he kissed her hair softly and let out a quiet sigh. There was no place on earth he would rather be.

"Everybody disagrees sometimes. It is human nature." She said matter-of-factly.

"Not us." He said, shaking his head. "I've spent too much time without you to waste it now by disagreeing. So whatever you say will be fine with me. I'll never argue with you. You're the law and you'll always be right." He declared in a tone that was not quite serious.

"That is very sensible of you." She agreed.

"Good then. It's settled." He said, trying not to laugh.

"So you will do whatever I tell you, anytime, without question? And you will never object to anything I say or do?"

He could practically hear her smirk and her arched eyebrows as she spoke.

"That's right." He replied.

"Well that does not sound very exciting." She said.

"Why?" He asked, his voice turning sulky.

"No spark. Where is the fun in that?" She teased.

"Ah, but you're forgetting about the making up part." And he leaned down in order to kiss her temple.

"Ah yes. There is that." She sighed contentedly.

"Can I ask you something?" He said suddenly. _Too_ suddenly. As soon as the words were out of his mouth he could tell that the casualness with which he'd tried to speak did nothing to veil the fact that this particular question had been playing on his mind and that its answer was important to him.

"Of course." She answered carefully, wondering what could be so delicate a topic between them that he felt he needed permission to ask.

"I don't want to bring up anything...uncomfortable. And maybe I shouldn't even ask. I mean, everything is finally right between us and I don't want to ruin anything." He paused, debating whether or not to continue.

"What is it that you wish to know?" She asked. "Let us not keep our concerns from one another anymore. We have done too much of that already. Just ask me." And she gave a reassuring squeeze to the hand that he was resting on her abdomen.

"Well, I couldn't stop thinking about this on the way over here. And I was wondering...." He stopped again in order to collect his thoughts for a moment. "What happened yesterday? I thought that I understood, but now I have no idea. If you..._wanted_ me...wanted to be with me, that is...then what happened when we were hiding down the hall? You were upset. Afraid. At least I thought so. I thought it was because I had gone too far. Touching you that way. But now that doesn't seem quite right. What happened?"

She sat up swiftly and deliberately, causing his hands to drop away from her, and turned her back toward him completely, letting out a deep breath as she did so.

"It's alright. You don't have to answer. It doesn't matter." He had no desire to push her away.

"No." She began carefully. "I will answer. I will...try to explain."

She would really rather do anything _but_ explain this to him. How could she? What could she say? That his child had been the furthest thing from her mind for months? That she was so completely out of her element when it comes to motherhood that she had done everything within her power to block out anything and everything to do with it? That even now, even after feeling their child move within her and all of the love and hope and joy that went along with it, she was still terrified? That she was probably not cut out to be a mother in the first place and that no amount of love could make up for her inadequacies as a woman?

"I...I was afraid." She admitted finally, in a barely audible voice. "I felt the child move and I was afraid."

"Why?" He asked gently.

She exhaled deeply once again. She did not like this _sharing of feelings_. It was so very frustrating. Happy and loving feelings were all fine and well, she supposed. But unpleasant feelings were something she had always dealt with on her own...or, more often, not dealt with at all. She was usually much more inclined to push her more painful emotions down far enough into herself that she wouldn't be bothered by them. After all, what was the point? You couldn't change them, so why dwell on them? They would only get in the way and keep you from doing what needed to be done.

But hadn't she just finished telling Will that it was important that they not keep things from one another? Hadn't she encouraged him to ask her anything he wanted to know? Hadn't she promised herself, just this afternoon, that she would never again hide herself from him?

"You don't have to talk about this if you don't want to." He said in a tone that he hoped clearly conveyed his willingness to drop the subject and never bring it up again. He never wanted her to feel that she had to share every part of herself with him. He didn't really think that she was capable of that anyway. Maybe _someday_, maybe not. But definitely not now. And it wasn't necessary. He now knew that she loved him and that was enough. Besides, he loved her for who and what she was. He didn't expect her to be anything else. He had always known that she had certain limitations when it came to intimacy, and he felt that he could accept them.

However she surprised him by answering.

"I am not like other women." She stated simply, not daring to turn around and meet his eyes.

"Of course you're not. You're unlike any woman I've ever _known_." And it was true. He had always known it. No woman could ever even come close to comparing with Djaq.

He meant it as a complement, she could tell. To him, it was the highest form of praise. But that only made this harder.

"You do not understand." She sighed. "I am different from what a woman _should_ be. I am not...sweet or patient. I do not know how to be caring or nurturing. I never had a mother or any women close to me to show me such things. And it is not really in my nature to be that way, I think. A baby...a baby needs someone less...harsh. I am hardened by the world and even before that I was not really...soft or loving. So I did not wish to think about what would happen once the pregnancy was over. I could not imagine myself as a mother. The idea of having someone so small and helpless depending on me and all the while me knowing that I can not possibly do things right...that I will surely fail and that the child will pay the price for my failings, was something that I did not wish to deal with. So I just kept telling myself that soon, very soon, I would have my life back. That my body would stop behaving in such strange ways and everything would go back to normal for me. I never even thought about the child inside of me. Of what he or she would look like or how it would feel to hold him or her. I just never allowed myself to consider it until yesterday."

It all came out in a rush of thoughts and words and mixed up feelings. She'd half expected him to interrupt her with some hollow sentiment. To tell her not to worry or that everything would be okay or one of the other useless phrases people come up with when they really don't know what else to say. She wasn't even sure if she _wanted_ him to speak. She paused finally and waited to see if he would say anything, anything at all.

He didn't.

"So when we were in the hallway," she continued, "and I felt it...felt the child move for the first time...I just...I was not..._prepared_. I was surprised and, I suppose, frightened by it. All of it. It all hit me at once. My fears and doubts, my nightmares, everything I know that I can _never be_. It was as if all of those realizations and everything that I have been hiding from suddenly slapped me in the face. I love this baby. I really do." Instinctively, her hand flew to her belly. "I just know that I will not be a good mother. I do not know _how_ to be."

It broke his heart so badly to hear the pain in her voice. He had hardly ever known her to be afraid. Of anything. And he was sure that he had never heard her say she was not capable of handling anything that came her way. He had suspected, for some time now, that she was less than accepting of the whole idea of motherhood, but he'd felt that it would be wrong somehow to pressure her into opening up about her private thoughts. Obviously, that had been a mistake. Although he had really believed it was no more than a matter of her being rather overwhelmed by all of the changes she was facing. Now he was sorry to learn that she'd been feeling so hopeless and alone. All the more because he knew that what she was so afraid of couldn't be further from the truth.

"You're wrong." He said gently but firmly as he sat up beside her and reached out to lay a hand on her shoulder. She flinched at his touch and he immediately drew back. But then, almost as soon as he'd removed it, she reached over and felt around for his hand. When she'd settled on it she brought it up and pressed it to her cheek placing hers over top of it.

"I'm sorry." She said shakily, still not meeting his gaze and trying very hard not to get emotional. It was not easy, as she seemed to have much less control over such things these days. "I did not mean to pull away from you. I am not accustomed to sharing these types of things...to closeness of this kind. I am trying but it will take time. It is somewhat uncomfortable and new for me. I have always handled things on my own."

"I know." He said simply, but with all the tenderness in his heart. He wanted so much to be able to soothe her and he was incredibly touched by the way in which she'd held his palm against her face. Although he suspected that the gesture was more for _his_ comfort than her own.

She wasn't sure which part of what she'd said he was replying to when he said '_I know_.' That she was sorry, or that she was still not comfortable with such intimacy? That she was trying, or the fact that it would take time? Perhaps all of it. There was some comfort in that.

"I'm sorry that you were scared. That you _still_ are." He could tell how heavily this was weighing on her and he had no intention of trying to lull her with empty words of comfort. He wanted to tell her all of the reasons that he _knew_, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that she would be, not only a _good_ mother, but the _best_. He knew what he felt but wished, once again, that he were better with words. He'd never had Robin's eloquence or Allan's cool confidence when it came to expressing himself. But he did have _Djaq's heart_ and so he figured the least he could do was try to pour out what was in his own.

"You're already a good mother. Don't you see that? I saw the way you sang to the baby this afternoon, and I was there when you told Robin that protecting our child is the most important thing in your life. Even just now, when you were speaking about not knowing how to _be_ a good mother, you were saying that because you love the baby and want the best for him or her. Isn't that what a good mother does? Protects and soothes and wants the best for her child?"

She did not answer so he continued. "And who cares for all of us when we're injured or ill? Who cautions Robin when his plans get too big to handle? Who comforted Allan when his brother died or me with my father or even John when he was forced to say goodbye to his wife and son? Who keeps Allan from getting into too much trouble and never _ever_ loses patience with Much? Two nearly impossible feats, if you ask me." He thought he saw the traces of a smile on the edge of her lips. "You're not as harsh or impatient as you think you are. At first, maybe a little. When you first came here. But you had so much to _prove_ then, Djaq. You're much more _yourself_ now. And this is new for both of us. But you are _not_ alone. It's alright to lean on me. I'm here and we'll learn together."

Then he leaned in close to her and said, in a voice that was no more than a whisper, "You don't always have to be the strong one."

It sounded so utterly simple when he said it. Like logic, something that couldn't possibly be disputed. But honestly, it had never occurred to her before. No one had ever said it to her and she had certainly never considered it. She had _always_ been the strong one. Even as a child.

From the time she could remember she had watched her father work. He was an important man who did important work and he was always busy. And she had wanted so much to be a part of what he did. So she'd watched and learned. He was efficient and methodical and stoic. He'd kept his emotions in check and his focus never wavered. People were _counting_ on him.

Wounded soldiers, sick children, even those who knew they were dying. They all depended on him for his skill and his strength, his rationality and his honesty. He'd delivered bad news, held the hands of worried loved ones, and watched helplessly as patients drew their last ragged breath. And all the while he'd maintained his composure. He'd _had_ to. He was being counted on.

And Djaq had been so in awe of him. Even when she was little she'd helped him by fetching fresh water and clean bandages. She'd threaded needles and handed him his instruments during surgery...quickly, efficiently, without question. Never allowing herself to show any indication of being disturbed by the blood and the tears and the stench of sickness and death. And as she got older, she'd cleaned and wrapped wounds for him, and then he had finally trusted her enough to allow her to stitch, operate and diagnose.

And she had followed his example with pride. Never showing worry or fear. She'd learned how to mask her emotions...to step onto the scene and immediately command respect and obedience. She spoke with authority and she found that it calmed people's fears...they relied on her. She slipped into the role easily and people seemed to like being led. It eased their minds. She took control and people followed and things got done. Her way. The right way.

And it had never occurred to her not to carry that attitude over into into other areas of her life. So she'd always tried to appear strong, and eventually, she didn't even have to think about it. She saw the strain that her father's profession had put on him, how hard it was to switch between stoicism while he worked and tenderness in his personal relationships. So she had determined to be even _stronger_...for _him_. So that he could rely on _her_ when he needed to. And her brother had just naturally followed. They'd found it easy to lean on her in times of crisis because she'd _made_ it easy. She never asked for anything. She told herself she didn't need help. She didn't want to appear weak or incapable. After all, she was being counted on.

Even now. She refused to even acknowledge that she might need anything or anyone. That there was anything she couldn't handle on her own. She didn't want to be thought of as needy. But, she couldn't really deny her deeper fear. That if she allowed herself to fall apart, even once, that there would be no one there to pick her up.

That the men in her life were so used to her being the one who calmed _their_ fears, soothed _their_ worries and held _them_ together--and she fit the role she played so very well--that they wouldn't have any idea how to respond if she did one day need them...if she did find herself unable to cope. Somewhere deep down, she couldn't shake the belief that they would all just stand around awkwardly, embarrassed and unsure how to respond, while they waited for her to pull herself together. Just as her father and brother would probably have done...and her fellow soldiers on the battlefield.

But Will had spoken with such simple wisdom. It had always amazed her, the way that he could say something that was so obvious and made such perfect sense yet no one else would ever think of it. _You don't always have to be the strong one._ And with those words, she could feel her carefully constructed walls begin to crumble. Just a little. But it was enough. Everything she had built around her heart suddenly, strangely, no longer seemed completely necessary. Because here was a man who didn't want to make her feel weak or needy. Nor did he expect her to carry the weight of the world on her shoulders. He only wanted to love her and be there to help her up if she happened to fall. That was all. And that was enough.

Will watched as her expression changed almost imperceptibly...as if something inside of her was fighting to break out from behind the mask that she always wore so well. He saw a few silent tears begin to roll down her cheeks and, from the way she sat there, he wasn't even sure if she was aware of crying. He reached out for her then, knowing she would probably pull away from him but hoping, all the same, that she wouldn't. He wrapped both of his arms tightly around her waist and pulled her onto his lap where he kissed away her salty tears. She leaned into him without a word and, as she settled against him, he could feel some of the pain begin to ease from her body.

For a long time he just held her. He rubbed her back and kissed her face and stroked her hair. She was no longer crying, but she seemed content to let him comfort her. Then she raised her head and she slowly kissed him. Softly at first, and then a bit more deeply. The absolute sweetness with which she moved her lips over his caused a feeling of warmth to spread throughout his entire body and he kissed her back with everything he felt for her. He never wanted her to feel alone again. He wanted to make sure she knew that she would always be loved.

She turned her body around and pressed herself flush against him as their kiss grew in intensity. She lost herself in the the feeling of strong arms and soft lips and the rhythm of his heart beat. He buried his fingers deep within her silky hair and nipped at her bottom lip, making her moan softly. She ran her hands over his chest and began to tug at his tunic. Then she stood up quickly, grasping his hands and pulling him up beside her. He willingly complied, enveloping her in his arms and leading her towards the middle of the room. They made their way clumsily, with eyes closed and arms and legs and lips and tongues entangled. Somehow they managed to reach the bed where they tumbled, laughing together, and landed with an ungraceful thump on its soft mattress.

"I love you." Djaq whispered breathlessly as she immediately resumed attacking his lips and trying to remove his clothing. And just like that, they seemed to forget every good reason they'd thought they had for avoiding the bed in the first place.


	19. Precious Moments

**A/N:** _Well, we're at that point in the story again where I must issue this warning: The following chapter contains material that is graphic in nature and is intended for mature audiences only. There. Consider yourself warned. _

**Precious Moments (M-rated)**

Will lay in bed, his arms wrapped snuggly around the woman he loved, with his chest pressed against her naked back, and thought about the night before. He remembered the way he'd made love to her, softly and slowly, taking his time and telling her over and over again how much he loved her. It was different than the previous two times he'd been with her...even _better_, if that were possible. The way she'd clasped her arms around his waist and moved with him, while kissing him deeply and staring into his eyes like she could almost see straight _through_ him, had made him feel like he was actually a _part_ of her.

He really felt like they were connected on a deeper level now that they'd begun sharing their thoughts and feelings with one another, and he'd really _felt_ it in the way they'd kissed and touched and held each other. Then, later, he'd stroked her hair and kissed her forehead and watched, until her eyelids had become heavy, and she'd drifted off to a peaceful sleep. Very shortly after, he had followed suit, feeling exhausted and content, not to mention extremely comfortable in such a soft and luxurious bed. The only _real_ bed Will had ever slept in, actually.

And now it was morning, but just barely so. He'd half expected them to be interrupted sometime during the night by Rashid knocking at the door with more nervous questions for Djaq. But thankfully, that hadn't happened and they were able to spend the entire night in uninterrupted bliss. Well, except for the several times throughout the night when Djaq had gotten up to use the chamber pot. But that was to be expected. And so Will had awoken only moments ago, feeling well-rested and refreshed, to find that the warm glow he was feeling wasn't the remnant of some wonderful _dream_ about Djaq, but rather the after effects of a night spent curled up with the woman herself.

He pressed himself even closer to her sleeping form, being careful not wake her, and draped his hand over her belly, a gesture that had fast become comfortable and familiar to him. He gently traced little circles around her navel with his fingers and let his mind drift to his baby, wrapped up soundly in its mother's womb. He wondered, not for the first time, whether it was a boy or a girl.

He thought about a little boy with a miniature bow and his very own quiver full of little arrows, sitting atop his father's shoulders as they hunted up something for supper. He could see the boy having to reach up periodically in order to brush aside the unruly fringe that kept falling over his eyes, but steadily refusing all of his mother's efforts to snip it short, preferring the unkempt look that boys are often so fond of. Will would point out various trees and forest landmarks to his son, who would seriously contemplate everything he was told before asking questions about everything from the color of the sky to the reason birds fly, some of which would have to be deferred to his mother once they got back to camp. Will sighed contentedly at the image in his head.

And then, almost instantly, it was replaced by thoughts of how sweet and adorable a little girl would be, with her dark hair done up in pigtails and wearing little trousers. He could just picture her stubbornly refusing to wear dresses as she ran through the forest because, as she might argue, her mother didn't bother to, so why should _she_. Will would tell her about the one time he'd seen her mother in a dress and she would wrinkle her nose in obvious disbelief, making him laugh. She would, of course, keep pace with all of the little village boys at running, climbing, and fighting, and would never _ever_ back down from a challenge. She would be an absolute _handful_, but a beautiful one.

And just like that, Will decided, once again, that he really had no preference and would be equally happy with either a little boy _or_ a little girl.

He was not blind to the challenges they were going to have to face in trying to raise a child in the forest, however. He was aware that such an arrangement as theirs was going to require, not only the _cooperation_ of the entire gang, but also quite a bit of _sacrificing_ on their part as well. Will wondered, for the very first time, whether it was fair to them. Did his and Djaq's contributions to their cause balance out the added hardships they would all be facing once the baby was born? And was it even fair to a child? Being brought up as an outlaw from birth? Always living on the run and having to be concerned about danger at every single turn? Should they even be attempting such a thing?

But what was the alternative? He supposed that they could maybe move to Scarborough. That was always a possibility. His brother was there, and Will felt certain that he and Djaq and their child would be welcomed by Luke and Will's Aunt Annie. She was a good woman who would gladly offer them a place to live while they got on their feet. And Scarborough was far enough away from Nottingham that their outlaw status needn't be an issue. No one would even know they'd been wanted and were living outside the law. They could start fresh.

But, of course, Djaq would not be so easily accepted there. He sighed. At least here, living so near the villages that they helped, her race and religion mattered less than her contributions. But that would not be the case in Scarborough or anywhere else in England. Deep down Will knew that and the knowledge made him sick inside. How could anyone judge such a beautiful and brilliant creature, not on her intelligence or her sense of humor, not on her skills or her bravery, but on the shade of her skin and the name of her god. It wasn't fair. It just wasn't. She didn't _deserve_ that.

But he knew that he would never be able to do enough to shield her or their child from such prejudice once they were out of Nottingham. And he was fairly certain that Djaq wouldn't _want_ to leave anyway. She had chosen a life here, a purpose that was important to her. Besides, she truly loved the whole gang, they were her family, and she wouldn't be happy walking away from them. And he didn't know if he could do it either.

So they would just have to make the best of everything. They would learn as they went along and they would do all that they could to lessen the inconvenience for the others. Even if it was a struggle, which it would surely be at times, it would be well worth it. He and Djaq would love their baby more than anything in the entire world, and that was what a child needed most of all. Wasn't it? They would just have to make it work, they were a family. No, not just _a _family, _his_ family. The thought was sobering and yet brought with it an enormous amount of comfort.

His thoughts wandered to the night when their baby had been made and they'd started their little family. At the time, it had seemed like a real beginning for Djaq and him. And then, almost immediately, it had felt like the end. The end of _everything_...even their friendship. All of his secret hopes and dreams and all the things he could never bring himself to wish for were erased in an instant. But, as it turned out, it really _had_ been a beginning. The best kind. They had created a life together that night, although neither of them knew it at the time, and that life was what had finally brought them back together.

He honestly didn't know if they would ever have found their way back to one another if it hadn't been for their baby. He wanted to believe that they would have, but he just didn't know. But now that they _were_ together, he could think back on that night without pain and heartache, without all of the guilt he'd been carrying around. He could remember the beauty of it and the way it had made him feel. Both inside and out. And how completely happy he'd been to finally hold her in his arms.

Just thinking about being with her that night in the cave made something begin to stir deep inside of him. He felt warm all over as he remembered what it had been like to feel all of those sensations for the very first time. Her lips against his, the smoothness of her skin beneath his hands, the way she'd opened herself up to him and let him explore and feel every part of her and finally take her as his own. He could feel himself hardening at the memory of it and he briefly considered waking her, either with words or actions, and starting the very enjoyable process of satisfying his need. He was actually still a little in awe of the fact that he could do just that.

Feelings of arousal when thinking of Djaq were certainly nothing new to him, he was, after all, a healthy, red-blooded man. But no longer were they something to feel uncomfortable with or even embarrassed about. Now it was something he could share with her and, best of all, he knew that it was all just as enjoyable for her. And that knowledge made him feel so incredibly _close_ to her, like they shared a secret world, just for them, where there now existed no restrictions...nothing standing between them.

But he couldn't bring himself to wake her just yet. She seemed to be sleeping so soundly and looked so peaceful that it really wouldn't be fair to her. Her body needed much more sleep now and besides, he could wait. After all, he had the rest of his life with her.

Stemming from either habit, necessity or both, Djaq had always been a light sleeper, and so she had awakened as soon as she felt her husband snuggle up behind her. She did not move or stir, however, and as the heaviness of a good night's sleep began to fade and she felt herself being pulled gradually toward complete wakefulness, she did not even open her eyes, but instead allowed herself to become lost in the feeling of Will's warm hand slowly caressing her stomach.

She wondered how long he'd been awake and how much of the morning she'd slept through, but felt far too comfortable to consider turning around in order to find out. She found herself vaguely wondering why she had so adamantly resisted this closeness with him in the beginning. Why had she been so dead set against facing the fact that here was where she belonged? She had been so arrogantly determined never to need anyone that she had almost missed the best thing in her life, and after waking in his arms this morning, feeling such overwhelming peace and comfort, she knew she never wanted to be anywhere else.

She found that peace and comfort were not the only things she felt upon waking, however, as she noted the undeniable sensation of something firm poking at her backside. It was definitely something new to wake up to, she mused, but not in the least unpleasant. She and Will had seemed to come together in an entirely new way on the previous night and there was a comfort and familiarity between them now that seemed to take everything, especially their lovemaking, to a whole new level. And she found herself very anxious to explore the new and extremely pleasurable world that had been opened up to her.

Still laying on her side, with him behind her, she moved her backside against him just the littlest bit, eliciting a surprised groan of pleasure from him. She repeated the action more slowly and with greater force so that he would know that she was awake and was not merely stirring in her sleep. This time he pushed back.

"Good morning." He greeted as he pressed against her.

"Mm. Good morning. Is it late?" She asked in a sleepy voice.

"It's barely dawn, I think. I'm not sure of the time, but it's still early." He told her.

"Good." She answered, wiggling against his erection suggestively one more time.

"Is that an invitation?" He asked against her ear in a low and seductive growl.

"I think that _you_ invited _me_ first." She said laughing quietly.

A tiny gasp escaped her lips as he dragged his palm up over her breast and past her nipple. She was still mildly surprised that he seemed to know instinctively just where and how to touch her in order to make her feel alive and loved and beautiful.

"Me? How?" He asked, nibbling on her ear lobe and then sliding his mouth down her neck to her shoulder.

"Oh, _you_ know how." She answered.

He chuckled softly.

She uncurled her body and stretched, pressing her back completely along the front of him, while he ran a large hand up and down the entire front of her body, making her shiver.

"Uh-uh. Not me." He told her. "_I_ was perfectly content to let you sleep." He loved the way that her body responded to his touch.

"I see. Well that is very kind of you. I will return to my slumber, then." She said, with just a hint of mischief, as she curled herself back up into a comfortable sleeping position.

"Okay. Sleep well." He said, leaning away from her and settling on his back.

She turned over immediately in order to glare at him, a bit insulted that he had given up so easily, only to see him trying to mask a wide grin.

"Oh you are _very_ funny." She said dryly.

"I knew you couldn't resist me." He said smugly.

"Oh _really_?" She questioned, quirking an eyebrow.

"Yep." He answered. He would have said more. Something witty and clever—as soon as he'd thought of something, that is—but he lost his train of thought when she chose that precise moment to begin trailing soft kisses all over his bare chest.

"You are right." She said through her kisses. "I can not resist you."

And as she planted ever more lingering kisses to every part of him within reach, she ran her hands up and down his body, causing him to moan softly. She ghosted her fingertips over every one of his scars, old and new--even though she had seen most of them before--and thought about all of the scars she could _not_ see. The ones _inside_...on his heart. The deep ones caused by the deaths of his parents and the knowledge that his younger brother had almost been hung right beside him for the unforgivable crime of being hungry. And, of course, there were the scars he bore due to her painful neglect of him over the past several months. She wanted so badly to heal them..._all_ of them.

Djaq found herself completely intrigued and enthralled by his body. He had quite a good amount of upper body strength for one so thin...years of chopping, sawing, and carving wood giving tone and definition to his chest and upper arms. And his skin was so pale that it actually seemed to shimmer and glow...like the moon in a clear night sky. He was beautiful.

In truth, the male anatomy had never really held any mystery or fascination for her before. She had seen men in various states of undress throughout her life—brother, patients, soldiers, outlaws—and had never been impressed in the least. But Will's body was different. It was beautiful and perfect and it was hers..._he_ was hers. And she wanted and needed desperately to _know_ him, to know what made him feel good, what he enjoyed. She intended to treat his body with the same loving care and reverence that he had treated her with every time they'd been together.

She let her hands wander all over him, soothing and caressing and easing away any pain or doubt, her heart filled with love, tenderness, and desire. As she dipped her hands below his waist and felt his arousal, she smiled to herself. She ran one finger up his length and was filled with satisfaction when she heard his sharp intake of breath as he bucked, hard, against her hand. She continued to trail her kisses across his chest and down along his stomach, lingering here and there as she lightly stroked the velvety skin of his groin with her hands, making him buck and squirm beneath her.

Will watched and felt as her beautiful and deft little hands moved purposefully over his body. Oh how he _adored_ those hands! It was very difficult for him to simply lie back and accept her attentions, because he wanted to be able to kiss and touch _her_ as well. But she looked so determined to explore every inch of him, and she wore such a look of awe on her face each and every time he instinctively reacted to something she did to him, that he could not bring himself to disturb her ministrations. Besides, it felt _incredible_. It made him feel loved and wanted in a way that he'd needed for so long, more than he'd even been willing to admit to himself.

Then she leaned down and planted one soft kiss to his most sensitive area and he could no longer bear it. He reached for her then, drawing her face up to his, and kissed her fiercely. The kiss was hard and bruising and far more forceful than he had intended, but she returned it with just as much ferocity and passion of her own. She straightened her body and slipped one of her legs over his waist so that she was laying completely on top of him, straddling him, while they hungrily devoured one another, hardly caring to _breathe_. He held her in place over him and wished that he were somehow able to fuse their bodies together in order to keep this connection. To become completely one with her.

He was about to flip her over onto her back and attempt that very thing when he felt her hand slip between their bodies as she reached for him. She slid her body down over him and took him inside of her...swiftly and easily. His kisses went from hard and bruising to soft and pleading in an instant as he found himself completely and utterly at her mercy, unable even to think or to move. But he didn't need to. She moved _for_ him. And when their kiss came to a close, she sat up halfway and placed her hands on his chest in order to hold herself up as she slowly and carefully moved back and forth over him. This very new and wonderful sensation caused him to desperately grab hold of a fistful of the bed covers and hold on tightly for dear life.

Djaq was not exactly certain of how this was supposed to work. She had assumed that she would simply move the same way she had before. But as soon as she started, she figured out that, because of their reversed positions, she was going to have to make some adjustments. She moved somewhat awkwardly at first, concentrating very hard on trying to get the hang of it. It was not as easy as it would seem, but she had always enjoyed a challenge. There was more coordination and balance involved than she would have thought, and it took a bit of trial and error to find a position that offered the most pleasure to both of them.

Although, frankly, Will did not even seem to notice. The look on his face spoke of nothing but _extreme_ pleasure and her heart swelled at being able to make him feel that way. The way that he'd always made _her_ feel. She divided her weight evenly between her hands as they rested on his chest, and her knees as she dug them into the bed. Then she drew herself up off of him just enough to take him almost completely out of her before slowly settling back into place and rolling her pelvis into his. Ah, yes. That was it. _Much_ much better. And as she began to grind her hips...slowly and rhythmically...he reach out and grabbed hold of her, gripping her waist tightly and guiding her movements.

He felt like he should be _doing_ something. Not just laying there while she did such _amazing_ things to him. At first he just closed his eyes and tried _hard_ not to completely melt beneath her. It wasn't easy, either. Every inch of his body felt alive and on fire. Every single time she lifted up and then slid down over him again, _he thought was going to die_. Seriously. It had never before occurred to him that a person could actually _die_ from pleasure...that something could feel so good that you just couldn't take it anymore. But now he wasn't so sure.

He couldn't even move, because he knew that as soon as he did he was going to lose control. So he fought the urge to thrust into her...even once...just once. _No_...he wouldn't do it. She was driving him blissfully mad and he was desperately afraid that he would be unable to hold on. And he refused to give in just yet...not yet...he did _not_ want this to end. The problem was, the more she moved, the better it felt, and the closer he got. So finally, he had to grab hold of her and try to control her movements just the littlest bit. Because, _really_, she was incredible. The way she moved, slow and controlled, with just exactly the right amount of friction and pressure in precisely the right places, was clearly going to be the death of him.

He opened his eyes and he watched her then. He was hit with the thought that this could not _possibly_ be _allowed_. There must be some rule against it...somewhere. Because it was just too good...there she was...her beautiful body...right in front of him...close enough to touch. But he didn't dare. He just couldn't. Because he _knew_ that it would mean the end. But it was _so_ difficult because he could see everything that she was doing to him and it was driving him _insane_.

So he tore his eyes away from her body and looked into her eyes. She was watching him and biting her lip. She was sweating and panting slightly. She looked more beautiful than he had ever seen her before and she watched _him_ as he watched _her_. And then, all of a sudden, he saw her tongue dart out and gently lick her lips. It all happened in a second, and he didn't know exactly why, but that was all it took and he quickly lost any hold he'd ever had on reality.

Djaq had been nearly mesmerized by the way that he'd looked at her. His eyes burned with such intensity, such passion that he seemed to be looking _through_ her. She wanted to say something...tell him that she loved him or how good it felt to be with him, or _something_. But she knew that there were no words that could possibly convey what she felt. So she used her body to show him exactly what was in her heart.

He was staring at her with a look that made her blood heat up and her mouth go dry. Then, all at once, he pulled her down to him and thrust into her once...twice...three times, and then he let out this..._sound_ that was something between a heavy sigh and a deep groan and sounded rather suspiciously like her name. And the sound of it sent her _completely_ over the edge. The ball of fire that had been steadily building in her middle exploded and sent rays of warmth out over her entire body, all the way to her fingers and toes which she curled and held tightly in order to try to keep that _feeling_ inside of her, although it seemed to want so desperately to get out.

Finally, after floating on a wave of pleasure powerful enough to make black powder seem like sawdust, she dropped her head onto his chest and draped her body over his languidly while she attempted the seemingly impossible task of steadying her breathing and heartbeat.

"You're..." Will panted. "I can't...That was..."

He either could not come up with a description equal to the experience, or he'd completely lost the ability to speak. Djaq was not certain which, but she felt that she could definitely relate either way. Actually, she was quite certain that, in addition to being unable to _speak_, she was also quite incapable of movement for the moment. So she just lay there, on top of him, their bodies still joined, for a very long time.

"Hey." He said softly, after a while, his arms folded around her back.

"Hm?" She responded, not even bothering to lift her head from his chest. As if she could.

"I love you so much. I always have. You mean everything to me, Djaq." He said in a voice shaky with emotion and exhaustion. "Please...promise me you'll always be with me."

With all her heart she wanted to make him that promise. But she knew, probably better than most, that life was an uncertain thing. Illness, war, _anything_ really, could take someone you love away in an instant. And given the lives they'd chosen for themselves, the risk was even greater. But she could not bear to ruin the moment by voicing such truths. Nor could she bring herself to lie to him, though.

"I promise that I will always love you and that I will always be _yours_." She whispered. And it _was_ the truth, completely. That seemed to be enough for him as he relaxed his body slightly and pulled her closer.

"Hey." He said again, after another moment had passed.

"Hm?" She answered.

"Do you think the baby is a boy or girl?" He asked softly.

"Yes." She answered.

"What?" He asked, confused.

"I said _yes_, I think that it is either a boy or a girl." She said.

"I'm being _serious_ here." But he actually loved when she teased with him. He loved her playful side and it made him feel so special every time they shared a little joke together.

"Oh. Well why did you not say so? In that case, it is a girl." She answered in the tone of one who knew.

"Really?" He asked with more than a hint of awe. How could she know that?

"_No_, silly. I have no idea. How _would_ I? You know as much as I do. But you seemed to really want a serious answer."

He reached down and swatted her ever so lightly on her bare bottom.

"Hey!" She lifted her head and glared at him with what she hoped was her best death stare.

"I was _asking_ because I've been thinking about something." He tried again.

"Uh-oh." She said, unable to keep herself from laughing.

"Will you _stop_ that?" He said in a pleading tone, although his eyes danced with mirth.

"Very well. I am sorry. What have you been thinking?" She asked, as seriously as she possibly could.

"That's better." He told her.

"Good. Now tell me." She prodded.

"Names." He said.

"Names?" She asked.

"Yeah. Names. Like, if we have a boy... could we maybe...name him...after my dad?" He asked almost shyly.

"Of course. If that is your wish." She found it rather sweet that he could be shy about anything after what they had just done together. "Dan?" She asked.

"Daniel." He corrected.

"Daniel." She repeated. "Alright. Daniel for a boy. What does it mean?"

"What do mean _what does it mean_?" He asked her, puzzled.

"Daniel. What does it mean?" She asked again.

"It doesn't _mean_ anything. It's just a name. Why? Is it _suppose_ to mean something?" He asked curiously.

"Where I come from, names have great significance and are carefully chosen because of their meaning. But the name Daniel is fine with me, even if it does not mean something. I just thought that _all_ English names had meanings. That's all." She explained.

"Why would you think _that_?"

"Well, your name is Will and that means...determination, right? And Robin is a bird. And Much means _a lot_ of something. So I thought that _all_ English names meant something. What does Allan mean? Or John?" She asked.

"Um." He began carefully, knowing that she despised being wrong. "I don't think they mean anything, my love. Any of them, actually." He was very amused by her assumption about English names, though. It was logical and so very Djaq-like. "Will is short for William, and Robin is a nickname for Robert. I don't really know about Much. Is that even his real name? But, as far as I know, most English names are just names, and if they ever had a meaning, people have probably long since forgotten."

"Oh." She said simply.

When he heard the disappointment in her voice, he suddenly wished he had simply let her believe it. What would the harm have been? "Sorry."

"What for?" She asked.

"I dunno. Now I wish they _did_ mean something. You sounded so disappointed." He told her.

"No." She stated dismissively. "Well, perhaps a little. I always thought that it was very clever, that's all. Because you _are_ very determined, and Much _eats_ a lot and _talks_ a lot and _complains_ a lot, and Robin lives in the woods among the trees and he is very vocal, like a robin. And I just always thought that it was very interesting how you all grew up to match the names you'd been given." She told him.

She _was_, in fact, a little disappointed. First of all, because her theory had really seemed to make the stilted and sometimes hard-to-pronounce names these people gave their children carry a bit of poetry. And secondly, because she really didn't enjoy being wrong. Ever.

He laughed to himself because it really _did_ make sense, yet he had never thought of it before. That was one reason he loved her so much. She could always see what no one else would even bother to look for. But he didn't dare let her see that it amused him, because he knew that she could be a bit sensitive about not knowing everything. "Your way _does_ sound more interesting. I'm sorry English names aren't more exciting for you."

"Do not be silly. I just did not understand. But I get it now. Names are just names." She said.

"So what does Djaq mean?" He asked after a moment of being enchanted by the way she stuck out her lower lip in a semi-pout, probably without even realizing it.

"Hm. I actually do not know. My father's people were from Egypt originally, and he chose my brother's name. Perhaps it has some meaning that is exclusive to a certain region there or something. But it does not have a meaning in Arabic, that I am aware of. But most other names do."

"So...what about..._your_ name?" When he'd asked about the meaning of _Djaq_ he'd forgotten that it was, in fact, _not_ her original name. Although it should have been easier to remember now than ever before, considering her real name was what Rashid had called her last night.

"I just told you, it means...oh. You mean Saffiya?" She asked, crinkling her nose.

"Uh-huh."

"It means 'pure'." She told him in a very matter-of-fact tone.

"That's very pretty." And it _was_ pretty. But he thought that it did not really suit her. Not that she was _impure_...far from it. He thought that she was as close to an angel as any woman could get. It was just that she had seen and done so much in the world that any innocence she may have once had probably left her long ago. He instinctively pulled her even closer to him.

"Yes. My mother chose it. Or so I have been told." She answered quietly. Sometimes, when she spoke of Saffiya, she could almost believe it was another person she spoke of. One who had lived a _different_ life. Perhaps even one who was still _living_ that same life, in a land across the ocean, with a family who loved her.

They lay in a comfortable silence.

"So is Daniel really alright with you?" He asked after a little while had passed. "Because we can choose something else if you want. We can name him after _your_ father. Or your brother, even. Oh. Wait. I guess that would be confusing."

"Yes, we do not need another Djaq running about the forest, do we? That would, indeed, be very confusing." She laughed. "My father was _Sayed. _It means 'master'. But it is not traditional for my people to choose names based on relatives, living or dead. Actually, it is forbidden to us. We always carry our father's name with us as a part of our own name, anyway."

"What do you mean?"

"Our names are much longer and more complex than European names. And they are set up differently...they have several parts. I will explain it to you one day, if you like. But basically, everyone has _son of_ or _daughter of_ and then their father's name. It follows our given name and sometimes a description and then it is followed by other ancestral names, and _then_ a surname. Your people have only two names, correct? Given and surname?"

"Three. Many people have a second name before their surname." He explained.

"I did not know that. Do _you_ have a second name?" She asked, folding her hands over his chest in order to rest her chin on them as she looked at his face.

"No, not me." He was struck by how sweetly she was suddenly looking at him. He was amazed by the way that one look from her could make his heart melt. "But some people do. I think that some Nobles even have more than _one_ second name. Robin or Marian could tell you about that better than I could, though." He reached out and smoothed her sweaty hair back off of her face.

"Still, _our_ names are very complicated. Not to us. But to foreigners." She explained, a little proudly.

"So then what's your _full_ name?" He asked as he traced little invisible lines up and down her arms and around her shoulders with his fingertips.

"I do not think that you will be able to pronounce it. But it is Saffiya bint Sayed ibn Ghazi al-misri." She announced.

"Scarlett." He added.

"What?"

"You're my wife. Your surname is Scarlett." He announced with his own hint of pride.

"Hm. Yes, here in England it is so. But at home, a woman keeps her birth name." She told him.

"We are in England, though. So you are Saffiya Scarlett." He said, a bit more stubbornly than he had intended.

"No. I am _Djaq_, not Saffiya. I will always be Djaq now." She told him pointedly.

That was why the meaning of Saffiya didn't fit her, he realized. She wasn't that person anymore, she was _Djaq_ now. And maybe it was fitting that the name she now carried had no meaning. Because she, more than anyone else he'd ever known, was creating her _own_ life. And she would make her own _meaning_ as well.

"Djaq _Scarlett_." He emphasized, but now with a smile. He loved that she was his wife and always would be.

"If you like, my love." She smiled back, slightly amused at the things that would bristle a man's pride.

"But if naming a child after a relative is forbidden, I guess we can't name our son after my father then." He said dejectedly.

"As you say, we are in England, and Daniel is a _good_ name. I _like_ it. Daniel Scarlett." She said with finality. "What will we choose for a girl, then? What was your mother's name?"

"Jane." He said in a quiet voice. "But _you_ should choose a girl's name, since I chose for a boy."

"I do not mind Jane. It sounds strong and honest." She told him.

That was his mother exactly. _Strong and honest._ Maybe there was more to the English naming process than he was aware of. "No no. I want _you_ to choose. Pick something from your language. A name that means something that you like."

"I will think about it." She said.

"Uh-oh. Don't hurt yourself." He told her.

"What do you mean?"

"Thinking." He said playfully, running his fingers through her hair.

"Ah. I see. So you do not really care about being serious, you only wished to catch me off guard. Is that right?" She quirked her eyebrow at him.

"Did it work?"

"Perhaps." She smiled and kissed his chest. "Are you hungry, my love?" She asked.

"Yes very, actually." He said.

"Let us get up then and get dressed. Aminah will come soon to check on me and we will have her bring something for breakfast." And she kissed him once more in the middle of his chest before peeling her body away from his and getting out of bed.

"How long do you think you'll need to stay here, at the castle? Until the mission is complete?" He asked, rising and searching for his clothes that were so hastily discarded the night before.

"Possibly. Maybe not. Once everything is in motion, if there are no setbacks, I think that Rashid will relax a bit. He really is not as nervous as he seems. Only about this. And who can blame him? Why do you ask?"

"I want to stay too. As long as you're here, I want to stay with you. If that's alright." He'd known last night, as he'd watch her fall asleep, that he would never again be able to sleep without her in his arms.

"But what if it ends up being weeks? I worry about the others, you know. With me here, I worry that one of them will get hurt and need me and I will not be there. And I feel terrible leaving them to make deliveries and keep watch with one less person. And if you are here _with_ me, that leaves more for them to do with only four of them. It does not seem fair."

"Is that why you brought so much food to camp with you yesterday? Because you felt bad about not being around?" He asked.

"I suppose that it is." She answered. "It seems wrong almost that I should sleep in a nice bed and have plenty of food while they do not."

"You shouldn't feel bad. You're doing something important, something Robin asked of you. And you know that if something happened, if anyone needed your help, they'd come for you. Don't worry. But you're right about me leaving them shorthanded." He thought for a moment. "Okay then. What if I go back to camp during the day and stop travelers, make deliveries, and all that. Then, I'll take the earliest watch and then come here after. To be with you at night."

She walked over to him then and stood on her toes in order to kiss him on the cheek. When he smiled but looked at her questioningly, she said, "I do not wish to sleep apart from you either."

"So then you'll sleep with me in my bunk once we've returned to camp for good?" He asked hopefully. He had been a bit unsure of how comfortable she was going to be displaying their new..._closeness_ in front of the rest of the gang.

"My bunk is better." She answered. "I have a curtain." When he grinned and raised his eyebrows suggestively, she hastened to add, "But, of course, you must realize that we can not possibly _do_ anything while the others are so near. Even if they can not see us, they will hear."

She actually blushed at the thought. She was not embarrassed in the least about sharing a bed or holding his hand in front of them or anything like that. He was her husband and she loved him and she didn't care what anyone thought. And she did not think that they would care anyway. But some things were private and their camp was rather small. She really didn't think she would ever be comfortable having sex while anyone was _that close_.

"You're right. But as long as I can hold you and sleep beside you, that's enough for me." He said.

"That is why it will be nice to sleep here together for a few days, at least. That way we will have a bit of privacy. But it will be dangerous for you to be coming and going so frequently here. You should time your trips to coincide with the changing of the guards." She said.

"Will you spend all day here?" He asked.

"I do not wish to do so everyday, but today I will have to because I must see what is happening with the servants and also the feast tonight. And I would like to coach Rashid on what to say to the Sheriff. Hopefully tomorrow I can go to make deliveries, though." She said.

She did not say it, but she was well aware that her days of participating in missions and deliveries and the like were coming to an end. Her pregnancy was advancing and she would be unable to move quickly enough to elude enemies, plus she could not take the chance of getting hurt. So it was especially frustrating to hang around all day while the others went on with their activities. But she knew that her presence in the castle was important and she was glad that what would probably end up being her final mission was one that might have a lasting impact on peace.

After they had eaten breakfast together, Will departed. A little over an hour later, Djaq was ensconced in a closet at the back of the largest of the rooms allotted to Rashid and his party. She watched through the door, which had been left slightly ajar for just that purpose, as his staff impatiently awaited his arrival and loudly wondered over what announcement could be so important as to require their attendance on such a day. There was, after all a feast to prepare for. Djaq watched as silence fell over the crowd the moment Rashid entered, and she was grateful that the closet was in such a position in the room as to give her the freedom to keep the door open just a little without being in anyone's direct line of sight.

Rashid began by announcing that there were to be very serious advancements to their cause over the next few days and, if all went according to plan, they would be departing England for good within the next week or so. He spoke, just as Djaq had coached him, as if he were delivering news of vital importance while, in reality, he gave away nothing of any great value. As she watched from her secure hiding place, Djaq saw the usual things that she had expected to see.

Some members of his staff listened with interest, some only pretended to, while still others pretended not to care. There were those who she felt certain were up to no good, but whom she was confident could be kept out of their way for the duration of the mission. But there was one person among them who drew her particular interest, and she knew that, because of his position and the threat he posed, he would not be so easy to deal with. She realized that as soon as the group had dispersed, she would have to get to Robin as quickly as possible or everything they were planning would be at risk.

**A/N:** Thanks to everyone who has been kind enough to review and let me know that they're reading and enjoying the story. It really really makes my day!


	20. Plans

**Plans**

Djaq knew that she had to get a grip on herself. She was taking this mission far too personally and she _knew_ that was a sure way to make mistakes. She had always been able to remain emotionally detached from situations...it was one of her strengths. It came from years training as a physician under her father, but it had ended up serving her well as a soldier as well as one of Robin's men.

She needed that distance in order to keep a cool head and see all of the angles in any given situation. Only then could she make objective decisions. She had watched, far too often, as Robin had let his personal obsessions cloud his judgments during critical moments. But _she_ was starting to lose the ability to keep her distance in this current mission and she knew that there were multiple reasons for it.

First and foremost, peace in her homeland held a great deal of personal importance for her, obviously. But she was also feeling a certain amount of responsibility over Rashid and what could happen to him. He had trusted her and she felt that she owed it to him to keep him safe. He was not the type of man who should be involved in such matters and she was determined that his faith in her not turn out to be misplaced.

And, though she had yet to say it aloud to anyone, she felt relatively certain that this would be her last big mission for the foreseeable future. Her pregnancy was progressing rather quickly now and she knew that she would soon be more of a liability on missions than any help. Protecting her and her unborn child would prove to be a distraction to the others and could definitely end up leaving them open to danger themselves.

And even after she delivered, she would have to remain close to camp in order to nurse and care for her child. There would be no room for daring and dangerous escapades with the gang. She could still participate in the planning stages of missions, but there would be nothing beyond that. No adventure, no fighting, no death-defying rescues. She was ending a chapter of her life, at least for quite a long time, and she was determined to end on a successful note.

So it made sense that she would be far more involved in this mission than she had ever been before, but she needed to separate her emotions from her thoughts and do everything within her power to maintain her focus. It was more important now than ever. She was being depended upon and she would not allow herself any slip ups.

She took a deep breath as she made her way through the forest that had become her home and she steadied her nerves, doing her best to conquer her worries with sense and rationality. There was no reason to believe that the problem of the spy in Rashid's household could not be resolved with intelligent analysis and careful planning. As she approached the camp, she slowed her pace just a little, allowed herself another deep breath, and readied herself to solve the problem at hand.

* * *

For once, Robin and Marian found themselves alone inside the outlaws' camp. The gang, minus Djaq, had been in the process of responding to one of their alarms when Marian arrived. The others had assured Robin that they could handle things without him and set off for the North Road, leaving Robin and Marian by themselves.

They had quickly dispensed with the small talk about her father, the Sheriff, Sir Guy, and the Saracen visitor and were now sitting together rather comfortably, with Robin's arms around her waist and her head on his shoulder.

"I really must be on my way now." She said, although she was feeling very snug nestled in Robin's arms.

"So you keep saying." He said softly, kissing her on the cheek and noting that she was making no move to disentangle herself.

"That's because I _really _have to go." She said with a smile. She had not meant to stay this long at all. Time had simply gotten away from her.

"And yet, you're not even _trying _to get away." He remarked, pulling her even closer to him.

"Robin."

"Yes, my love?"

"Please. I told you last night when I agreed to try to get away from the castle for a bit today, that it would not be for long." She told him in a pleading voice.

"And yet you're _still_ not trying to get away." He repeated with a bit more smugness than was strictly necessary.

"Robin, Guy will be suspicious if I am out too long." She said with feigned sweetness. _There_. She hated Robin's arrogance. He never seemed to understand the careful line she had to walk in order to meet all of her obligations. Being here with him was wonderful, but she could not afford to anger Guy. She had only just managed to get back in his good graces.

He released her immediately just as she had expected.

"Well then, by all means, return to your beloved _Guy_. Wouldn't want to keep your lord and master waiting, now would we?" He spat, standing up and pacing in front of her.

"That's hardly fair!" She said with exasperation and a trace of hurt.

"You and I agree on that point, at least." He sulked.

"Robin."

Silence.

"_Robin_." She tried again.

More silence.

"You're behaving like a petulant child. Do you realize that? Guy has given his consent, very reluctantly I might add, to me going off on my own for a short ride. You _know_ that the Sheriff has ordered that my father and I are to remain close at hand as long as the visitors are in Nottingham. We are the leading members of the Nobility and, as such, we have certain duties to perform." She said imploringly.

He whipped around to face her. "Is this the part where I'm suppose to to pity you your difficult life? Poor pampered Marian of Knighton. Having to put up with such _inconveniences_. Not to mention the added burden of attracting men's attention left and right." He tossed out bitterly.

That did it. She stood and brought herself up to her full height, facing him.

"You really are something else!" She said, her voice like ice. "You know that my father is in a perilous position because of _my_ actions in abandoning Sir Guy at the altar! And now he finds himself ordered about and kept a virtual prisoner by the very man who stole his position and his dignity. Actions have consequences, Robin. And some of us still have to live in the real world!"

"You do not think that _I_ live in the _real world_, Marian?" He met her gaze for the first time.

"I think that you have forgotten what it means to have to play by the rules sometimes." She answered in that same icy tone.

"And I think that _you_ have forgotten that it can be good and even _necessary_ sometimes to break them." He told her accusingly.

"_Everytime_ I slip away, disguised, to feed the poor or deliver medicines, I break the rules." Her voice rose in intensity and volume as she spoke. "_Everytime_ I have to swallow my disgust and smile at the Sheriff in order to spare my father any more negative attention or cozy up to Guy of Gisbourne to get information for _you_, I break the rules."

"Marian, I--"

"_Everytime_" She continued over him. "I sneak away just to have a few _moments_ of peace with you, _I break the rules!_" She was now shouting. "And I take my _and_ my father's life into my hands each and _every_ time I do so! _You_ would do well never to forget _that_!" And with that, she spun away from him and headed toward the entrance of the camp with her head held high.

Although, honestly, she was trembling inside at the reminder of the foolish games she played in order to be able to do the things that were important to her. Games she was growing to despise more and more as time went on. Even dressing as the Nightwatchman, something that had always brought her a great sense of freedom and satisfaction, was not nearly as fulfilling as it once was.

"I don't want to fight with you, Marian. Forgive me." Robin said in a small and pleading voice. "I spoke out of regret that our time together must always be so short. That it's always spent in hidden and stolen moments. I didn't mean what I said. I'm glad you came today. I know it's not easy getting away." And he stepped closer to her and reached for her hand.

"I, too, wish that we could have more, Robin." She allowed him to claim her hand in his. "More time, more privacy...just..._more_."

He turned her around to face him. "Let's not part as enemies." He said as he pulled her close and leaned in for a kiss to which she made no objection.

Just then the the hatch swung open and Djaq stepped through.

"Djaq." Robin and Marian broke apart, the latter blushing profusely. "We weren't expecting you. Will said you would be staying at the castle all day. Is anything the matter?" Robin asked.

"I have run into a problem with the plan and I wanted to discuss it with you before tonight's feast. But I did not mean to interrupt." She said, glancing at their entwined hands. "Hello, Marian. How are you?"

"Hello, Djaq. I am well, thank you. And don't be silly, you're not interrupting. I really _was_ just leaving." She said, catching Robin's eye with a smile. "But how are _you_? It seems forever since we've seen one another. It's odd that we're both staying at the castle yet haven't had any contact."

"I am fine, thank you. And how is your father?" She asked.

"His health is fine. But he is rather tired of being at the castle, as you can imagine. Not only does he find himself closely watched and his movements restricted, but being there is a harsh reminder of all that was taken from him. So he is very anxious to return to Knighton." Marian answered.

"Yes, I am sure. I am finding the castle quite stifling as well. I actually did not expect to leave there today at all, but something has come up that I thought required immediate attention." She informed the two.

"Oh?" Robin asked, taking a seat and giving her his full attention. Marian did the same, all thoughts of leaving forgotten for the moment at the prospect of being included in the gang's mission planning.

"I mentioned to you that I would determine who in Rashid's household was not to be trusted enough to be allowed near what we are doing. In case they did something to stand in our way or, more likely, reported something out of the ordinary to his father when they return to Acre. Remember?" She said as she took a seat on her bunk.

"Yes. Of course." He nodded.

"Well there are a _few_ people whom I believe to be spying for his father, but they hold minor positions in the household and can be easily kept out of the way." She waved a hand dismissively at the ease with which those few could be handled. "But I believe that there is one man who may present us with a challenge. Rashid's translator."

"I see." Robin frowned.

"But why should he be any more difficult for you than anyone else? I don't understand." Marian looked back and forth between the two of them, trying to figure out what they saw that she did not.

The hatch opened again before either Djaq or Robin could answer and Will walked in. Seeing Djaq he smiled, but then, remembering that she was supposed to be away all day, he became concerned.

"Djaq, are you alright?" He asked anxiously. Upon seeing her smile and nod quickly in response, he relaxed and asked, "Did you finish what you had to do at the castle, then?"

"No. Well, yes. But I must get back. I only came because I wanted to tell Robin that we may need to make some changes to our plan." She told him.

"Why?" He asked.

He did not approach her because of the presence of Robin and Marian. He was unsure as to how much closeness she would deem acceptable in front of people, and he didn't want to make her uncomfortable. But the physical distance between them suddenly felt unnatural after all that they had shared. Before Will had a chance to try to catch her eye and determine her thoughts on the matter, Much frantically rushed in through the still open hatch, having heard her voice.

"Djaq! Why are you here? What's happened?" He rushed over to her. "Will said you wouldn't be coming round today. What's wrong?"

"She's here to discuss a problem with the plan." Marian supplied impatiently. She knew she should be on her way, but she so rarely got to participate in the outlaws' plans in any more than a peripheral way and she wanted to take part as much as possible before she had to leave. "Go on, Djaq." She prodded.

"Wait." Robin held up his hand, much to Marian's dismay. "Much, are Allan and John with you?"

"Yes, they should be along any moment. Why?"

"Perhaps it would be better if we waited until _everyone_ came in so that we're not interrupted again." Robin said.

Djaq and Will nodded at the suggestion, Marian sighed heavily and Much knelt down so that he was at eye level with the seated Djaq. He took her by the shoulders and spoke to her very much as one would speak to a child.

"Are you hungry?" He asked, nodding along with his his own question. "Have you been eating properly at the castle? Will told me that you have, but I _do_ worry about you, you know. I'll just fix you something, shall I?"

And he stood to go into the kitchen. He knew that Djaq did not like to be fussed over, but he found that he simply couldn't help himself. He worried over her and the baby being at the castle with no one to look after them. Well, there was Will, but still...Will didn't _cook_.

"I do not want anything, Much. Thank you." She told him. She just wanted the others to arrive quickly so that they could resume their discussion.

"It's no trouble. It won't take but a moment." He said cheerily.

"I really am fine, Much. I have already eaten." She had to struggle not to snap at him and she felt terrible about it. After all, she knew that he was just trying to be helpful and that offering her food was his way of taking care of her, and she really appreciated it.

"Are you sure? Because I could just--"

He was stopped by a pointed look from Will, who could see that Djaq was agitated over whatever it was she came to tell them.

"Hey, Djaq." Allan greeted with a grin as he entered.

"Djaq." John nodded and offered a smile.

Robin nodded to her to continue.

"I was just explaining to Robin and Marian that Rashid's translator is a spy, and that it may pose quite a problem for us." She explained to those who had just entered.

"But why should it?" Will asked her. "You said that you expected to find spies in a household that large, especially with a man like Rashid's father. So why can't you just do what you said and have Rashid give him something else to do, something that keeps him away from sensitive matters?"

"It will not be so easy with him." She told him.

"Why not?" Will questioned.

"That's what I was asking when you came in." Marian put in.

"His position as translator makes everything somewhat more difficult, I'm afraid." Robin answered. "I imagine that he is a rather learned man who has certain expectations regarding his duties. He will have had access to every single thing that has been discussed since they first arrived on our shores. He's probably kept rather detailed records of most things, so he's in a position to hurt our cause more than most and we need to get him out of our way. The problem is that a person with a less defined or, even a more..._menial_...position might be easily reassigned to some other, less compromising task. But an official translator can hardly just be asked to do something _else_ for the duration of his stay."

"Why not?" Inquired Much. He knew better than most that a good servant does as his master bids him without complaint. Or, at least, without _too_ much complaint.

"Because that _is_ what he does. He translates." Robin explained.

"But this Rashid guy's the boss, right? I mean, he can just tell the translator to do whatever he says. Just tell him he's gotta do as he's told or there'll be hell to pay. That's it." Allan suggested with a shrug. He really didn't see the problem.

"It is not that simple, Allan." Djaq told him. "Knowing Rashid's father as I do, and knowing the importance that he would place on this scheme between himself and Prince John, this man was no doubt hand picked for this role. It would create a great amount of suspicion if such a man were suddenly asked _not_ to do his job. A job that he crossed the ocean for the sole purpose of doing. Do you not agree? And we are trying very hard to avoid arousing _any_ suspicion either here or once Rashid returns home."

"Why? I mean, why after he goes home? By then, we'll already have the money and the plan to stop the peace will be ruined. So what does it matter what anybody finds out after it's all said and done?" Allan pressed.

"_Because_, Allan." Robin was becoming impatient. He often enjoyed making the lads ask him a thousand questions in order to work out his plans. But that was when he _had_ a plan. He still didn't know how to handle this snag. "We have given our word. _Djaq_ has given _her_ word. This man, this friend of hers, has agreed to help us at great risk to himself. Djaq assures me that if his father ever knew of his involvement in the disruption of their plans, Rashid would be in grave danger. Family honor is a powerful thing. We can not let him down. We have to do everything within our power to protect him and keep his involvement secret."

"I told you how nervous he was. You should have seen him last night." Will said to Allan. He wanted to go to Djaq. She looked rather anxious over all of this and he wanted her to know he was by her side, but he didn't want to force closeness on her in front of the others before she felt comfortable with it.

"Besides, this man could mean trouble for us _here_ as well." Djaq explained. "He probably tries very hard to stay apprised of anything and everything he thinks will be of interest to Basil abd-al-Muhaymin, Rashid's father. And Robin is correct. I am sure that he keeps meticulous records so that he can give a full accounting to his master once they return. So he will be constantly under foot, always trying to eavesdrop and spy, wanting to be aware of every detail of anything going on."

Djaq paused when she noticed Will inching closer to her uncertainly. She patted the space next to her on her bunk and he moved in to sit beside her, putting an arm around her shoulder. This caused the rest of the outlaws, who had not yet been confronted with the couple in anything but theory, to shift uncomfortably and avoid looking directly at them. Marian, however, hid a smile.

Djaq merely continued, unconcerned. It could surely not be a total surprise to them, and they would have to get used to it sooner or later at any rate, she reasoned to herself. "Most of the servants are probably content to simply keep their eyes and ears open for any bit of interesting information, anything that comes their way while going about their jobs. But this man, Dabir is his name I believe, is not really a servant...at least not in the traditional sense. And he is unlikely to sit back and wait for information to come his way. He will undoubtedly seek it out and he has the freedom within the household to do so."

"Which means trouble for us." Robin added. "The task of getting that much money out of the castle without being spotted is going to be next to impossible as it is. We cannot afford to have someone lurking about and causing trouble."

"Maybe you can use other methods of getting him out of your way. If he can't be removed from his duties by straight-forward means, there are always other, less _friendly_, means." Marian added meaningfully.

"For example?" Robin asked her with a raised eyebrow.

"Well," she began, "he could take a nasty spill down the steps. Or—"

"_Marian_! Remind me never to get on your bad side." Robin teasingly scolded.

"I will remind you of it every chance I get." She smiled.

"That still sounds kind of suspicious, though. I mean, what if he or someone else suspects he was pushed?" Will offered.

"Besides, Rashid is adamant that no one be hurt." Djaq said, reluctantly dismissing Marian's idea. It was, in fact, something she had considered herself on the walk from the castle.

"_Seriously_?" Allan asked. "But according to Robin, we're doing this as much to save _him_ as for the money. This guy was sent here to _spy_ on him and he's worrying about people getting _hurt_?"

"I understand your frustration, Allan." Djaq sighed. "It would be far simpler for me to pull this man Dabir into a dark hallway and beat him to within an inch of his life to get him out of my way, but as I say, Rashid is adamant about no one being hurt and, unfortunately, we must abide by his wishes in this matter."

The men just looked back and forth between her and Marian for a moment before Allan spoke again. "And they say we men are brutes. You women are scary, you know that? I second what Robin said, I plan to _never_ get on the bad side of either of you two." He said, shaking his head.

"That is very sensible of you." Djaq told him with only a tiny smirk while Marian nodded her agreement.

"What about illness?" John spoke for the first time. "That might not seem too suspicious. Could Djaq not slip him something to make him ill just until they leave Nottingham?"

"That could work, John." Robin said, standing and starting to pace as he processed the ideas that now started to swim in his head. "How about it, Djaq?"

"Yes, I could do that." And she though for a moment. "But there is a problem we have not yet considered. If he is incapacitated—"

"Then who will translate for Rashid with the Sheriff?" Robin finished her thought in a defeated voice.

"Exactly." Djaq said dejectedly. "We cannot overlook the fact that this man is needed."

"But Will said that Rashid spoke English to him last night. Can't he just speak for himself, without a translator?" Much asked.

"Yeah. It wouldn't be for much longer. Just tonight when he asks for the money, and then he can probably avoid any contact with the Sheriff until they're leaving Nottingham. Maybe a translator won't be necessary." Allan said.

"No. His English is not nearly good enough for him to carry on any type of conversation. And anyway, tonight's feast will be important because, as you say, Rashid will request that the money be turned over to him. And we have given him strict instructions regarding what is to be said to the Sheriff about the money." Djaq pointed out.

"You could coach him on what to say in English." Will said to Djaq.

"That may not be enough." Robin said. "We cannot afford to have any information lost due to Rashid's inability to properly communicate in English. We have to be certain that he takes _sole_ possession of the money and that _no one_ else had access to it. Otherwise the plan could fail. The Sheriff is very tricky and Rashid will be nervous enough as it is. I just don't know if it can work."

"I agree. This is just too important to be left to chance." Djaq said.

"Well what about you?" Marian directed her question to Djaq. "Couldn't _you_ do it?"

"No!" The word was spoken with varying degrees of intensity from every man in the camp. And, although she had been on the verge of telling Marian that she could not possibly consider placing herself in any danger, no matter how small the chance, while she was carrying a child, Djaq now found herself incredibly annoyed by the men around her.

Ordinarily, they would _never_ have dreamed of acting so protective in her presence. Behind her back, maybe, but not in front of her. It seemed that a few days and nights away from her had dulled their memories regarding her independence as well as her temper. Perhaps she should show them a flash of both just to restore proper order between them.

"But if it's just for tonight, what is the harm?" Marian continued, speaking directly to Djaq and choosing to ignore the outburst from the others. "The Sheriff hasn't seen you up close in quite a long time, and you look much different now. Your hair is longer and you have put on weight due to your condition—Oh. I'm sorry, Djaq I didn't mean to be insensitive."

She really didn't. She had just found herself very caught up in all of this planning and she got carried away. But the last thing she would ever want to do would be to offend Djaq about her pregnancy weight gain, not now that the two of them had started to form a tentative friendship...or, at least, an understanding.

"No, Marian. Your statement was not insensitive in the least." Djaq assured her. "And you are right. My appearance has changed since I was captured by the Sheriff. In a way, it would be the ideal solution if I were to translate for Rashid. That way, it would not really matter how nervous he became or even if he forgot to stick to what we asked him to say, because I would simply say what needed to be said in English and the Sheriff would never know that the words were not originally from Rashid's lips. Also, I would be in a better position to respond to anything unexpected that the Sheriff says...anything that might catch Rashid off guard. The prob—"

"You _can't_ do it." Allan interrupted.

"No, of _course_ not." Djaq said through gritted teeth as she glared at Allan. "I was not considering it. I was just about to say that the problem is that even if the risk is small, it is still too great a risk for me to take right now."

"It'll have to be another of his servants." Will told her.

"I do not think that any of the others speak English." She answered tersely.

"Well, it can't be _you_." Much told her firmly.

"Yes, Much." She hissed in annoyance. "I think that we have already established that."

"Good. Because it can't." Much continued, oblivious to her irritation. "You'd be all alone in the Great Hall with no one around except the Sheriff, Gisbourne, a bunch of Saracens, and the castle guards. Anything could happen. No way. Uh-uh."

"Alright, Much. I think we've got it." Will told him pointedly.

"Now wait a minute." Robin said thoughtfully. "That might be the answer."

"What are you on about, Robin?" John asked, looking just as confused as the rest of them.

"What if Djaq does go in as Rashid's translator, just for tonight—Wait, now. Hear me out." He said when the others opened their mouths to protest. "But what if _we_ are all there as well. We could dress as guards. We've certainly done it before, and that way we can be with Djaq in the event the Sheriff starts any trouble. She would be perfectly safe with _us_ there."

While the rest of the gang, as well as Marian, made comments that either expanded on Robin's idea or vetoed it, Will leaned in, tightening his grip on Djaq's shoulder as he did so, and spoke very softly so that only she could hear. "Do you want to do this, Djaq? Do you think you could be safe? I trust your judgment, I just don't know what I would do if anything happened to you or the baby. It's up to you, though."

The irritation she had been feeling dissipated immediately as his words trickled down into her ear and he brushed his lips over her temple softly. She leaned closer to him and laid her head against his shoulder, content to accept his worry for her as natural, but also pleased that he was still able to back off and leave her to make her own choices.

"Robin, listen." She said. "I really do not think that we have any reason to worry about Rashid's translator speaking for him this evening. He came here expecting Rashid to accept this payment and that is exactly what he will be doing. Frankly, he is probably more suspicious of the fact that it has taken Rashid this long to do so. This was suppose to be a short stay in London while he collected the funds, it only turned into such a drawn out affair because Rashid was too afraid to openly defy his father's wishes so he made up excuses to put off the inevitable. We should let him do his job tonight, and then put John's plan to work afterward. I can drug him after the feast so that he is out of our way while we take the money."

"I suppose you're right. What will you use to drug him then?" Robin asked.

"Hm. I will have to think about it. Rashid has a physician in his party, so if I use something too easily detectable, it will only succeed in raising _more_ suspicion." She responded.

"Hold on. Perhaps a bit of suspicion is just what we need." Robin told her.

"I do not understand." Djaq said.

"Nor do I. _Again_. However I'm afraid that I really can't put off leaving any longer." Marian said as she rose to leave.

"I'll walk you out, Marian." Robin said.

"I wish you all good luck in your plan..._whatever_ it may be." She said with a glance at Robin as the others bid her farewell.

"I'll be right back to explain my idea." Robin told the gang.

* * *

That evening, while the the Sheriff and his guests were feasting downstairs, Will and Djaq slipped into the translator's private chamber.

"So how will I know it if I see it?" Will asked.

"It may be bound up with a hard cover, like a book, or it may be bound as a codex, or maybe even rolled like a scroll." She explained. "Just hand me anything that you find that resembles any of those things."

"So do you think that everything is going according to plan downstairs?" Will asked her as they continued to search.

"I really hope that it is. Robin was suppose to make sure that Marian had the vial in time for the feast, and, if all goes well, she will have already added it to Dabir's cup by now."

"And, hopefully, Rashid won't run into any trouble with the Sheriff. At least Robin and the others will be there if anything goes wrong."

"Yes, Robin was determined to dress up in his guard outfit and attend the feast." She laughed. "I just hope he does not draw attention to himself at all."

"He's careful. You know that. He'll blend in."

"Only until Gisbourne makes any kind of romantic gesture towards Marian. The he will become jealous and unpredictable."

"No. He knows how important this is and how much is riding on the success of this mission. He'll be careful. Don't worry."

"I am sure that you are right." She said as they searched opposite sides of the room.

"Here!" She said, removing a large leather-bound volume from underneath the bed. "Perhaps this is it." And she sat down on the bed and opened the book.

Will came to stand next to her as she skimmed the pages. It looked like a bunch of dots and squiggly lines to him, so he assumed it must be written in some sort of code. He was able to read and write just a bit more than the average peasant thanks to his father who had learned from the man he was apprenticed to as a boy. But Will had never seen writing like that before.

"Yes, this is it." Djaq announced. "Just let me check the date of the final entry so we will know if there are other journals hidden away. No. The last entry is dated this morning, so this must be the only volume. Let us hurry back to our chamber, then." And she closed the book and stood up to make a quiet exit.

Will opened the door just enough to peek through and checked the corridor for any unwanted persons. Luckily, just about every member of Rashid's household was needed elsewhere for the feast. Some were cooking, some were serving, some were guarding their master, while still others provided music and other entertainment, leaving the wing that had been dubbed the _Saracen Wing_ relatively deserted.

"It's clear." He whispered, taking her free hand and leading her carefully down the hall back to the safety of their chamber.

Djaq was surprised to find, once again, that she did not seem to mind his protectiveness. Her instinct was not, as she might have expected, to pull out of his grasp and declare that she was perfectly capable of leading _herself_ down the hallway. After all, he was in no way overbearing or patronizing about it, he was just subtle, and loving, and sweet. And it made her wonder how many times, in the past when they had been on missions together, he had wanted to reach out for her just to assure himself that she was with him and that she was alright.

When they entered their chamber and closed the door, she gave his hand a final squeeze before letting go and stood up on her toes to peck him on the cheek.

"What was that for?" He asked her with a curious smile, clearly surprised by the spontaneity of such a gesture while they were in the middle of a job.

"For _you_. Because you are very good to me and I love you." She said simply, pretending not to notice his characteristic shock at such praise.

She took a seat and began perusing the book she carried while Will walked over to the window and flung open the shutters to reveal an arrow embedded in the window frame. He pulled it out and untied the thin strip of red cloth that had been tied around it. Djaq looked up and let out a relieved sigh at the sight.

"It's red." Will said, crossing back to where she sat. "So that means not only did everything go as planned between Rashid, the translator, and the Sheriff, but Marian must have managed to mix the drug in with the translator's water without any trouble. So how long will it be until it takes effect?"

"Not long at all." She told him. "He will start to feel hot and dry almost immediately, but itwill prevent him from perspiring. So he will drink more in order to cool himself, thereby ingesting even more of it. And by the time the feast is over, the money has changed hands, and he retires to his chamber for the night, he will be close to hysteria. The physician will be summoned and he will take one look at his patient's dilated pupils, raised temperature, and delirious state and will declare that he was poisoned. By the early hours of the morning, the entire household will be convinced that _Rashid_ was the intended victim and they will be anxious to leave England as quickly possibly."

"But if it's poison, aren't you worried that he might die?" He asked. "What about Rashid's _no harm _rule?"

"It is only lethal in large, unregulated doses. I was very careful to only put enough in the vial to induce delirium, but not enough to do any permanent damage. So even if Marian put all of it in his water, and he drained the entire cup, he will still be fine in a day or so."

"That'll leave us enough time to complete what _we_ have to do." Will said, somewhat amazed at her skills and the way she seemed to have covered all of the possibilities in her mind beforehand. "We should be ready to hide, they could be coming in with the money at any time."

"You are right. You unbolt the door while I put this journal someplace safe and I'll meet you in the closet." She said, wrapping the book in cloth and securing it in a safe place.

She gave the room one final sweep with her eyes in order to be certain that it did not appear lived-in, and walked to the back of the room to join Will in their hiding spot.

"I hope that we are not stuck in here for very long." She said as she settled next to him on the floor of the closet and reluctantly shut the door, leaving them in darkness. "It is too dark and musty and it is much too small for two people."

"Well, we'll just have to sit very very close together. I'm willing to make the sacrifice if you are. Just for the mission of course." And he felt around in the dark until he found her waist, then he pulled her up onto his lap where he cradled her and planted wet kisses to her cheek, neck and shoulder, making her giggle softly.

"Do not start anything that you cannot finish." She scolded playfully. "Our success depends upon us remaining undetected in here once everyone starts to arrive. It would not due for them to hear moaning and heavy breathing coming from the closet."

"Djaq!" He gasped.

She could not see his face in the darkness, but she had no doubt that he was both grinning widely and blushing a deep shade of red. "What? Do I shock you with my brazenness? Shall I try to be more timid from now on?"

"No. I like you just the way you are." He said resuming his kisses to her cheek, but going no further.

"You _like_ me?"

"I _love_ you just the way you are. Is that better?" He asked, laughing.

"Yes, much better. But are you certain? You heard what Marian said earlier. I have gained so much weight that I am hardly recognizable anymore."

"That is _not_ what she said and you know it." He admonished.

"I know, I know." She sighed.

"Anyway, you're pregnant, of course you're going to put on weight. Does that bother you?"

"No, not really. It does slow me down somewhat, though. I am accustomed to being able to move swiftly and quietly, so I find that I must now make adjustments." She told him matter of factly. "Does it bother _you_?"

"No! Not at all! I mean, I'm sorry that you find it harder to get around now, but I think you're more beautiful now than ever." He said sincerely, holding her closer.

"I think that you have been spending too much time with Allan." She said with a laugh.

"Allan? Why?"

"You have learned the art of telling pretty lies to unsuspecting women in order to have your way with them." She answered.

Although he couldn't see her face clearly, he was sure she was smirking and just the thought of that look on her face made his heart skip a beat. "It's not a lie. You're always beautiful."

"Hmph!" Was the only reply she gave.

"But is there any possibility of me having my way with you anyway?" He asked softly, resuming his kisses to her neck.

"I would say that it is a _definite_ possibility." She told him breathlessly as his kisses drove her slowly mad. "But certainly _not_ now and _absolutely_ not in this closet."

"Fair enough." He said with a laugh, reluctantly stopping the kisses and settling for just holding her instead.

She leaned into him and rested her head against his shoulder, sighing contentedly.

He took a deep breath. "You know, I think that...I mean it seems like...everything's going really well. With the plan, I mean. And I'm starting to believe that everything's gonna work out."

"There is no reason to think otherwise, is there?" She asked carefully.

The strain and hesitation in his voice left little doubt in her mind that he was not _just_ referring to the mission. The two of them had gone from treating one another like virtual strangers to being nearly inseparable in a matter of two days. She knew that part of him must surely be wondering if it were not all too good to be true. If their intimacy, their teasing, and their newfound understanding were not some lovely dream from which he would awaken shortly to find himself alone and neglected once more. That maybe the deep level of comfort and familiarity that they were just starting to ease into would suddenly slip away if he were not very careful.

"I suppose not." He said quietly.

"We should not look for problems where none exist. We should be content that everything is as it should be." She said just as quietly.

"I _am_ content." He told her, leaning his head against hers.

"As am I, my love."

"I'm glad, then." He said softly.

They heard voices and the sound of the chamber door opening. Djaq removed herself from Will's lap and positioned herself in front of the closet door so that she could see everything through the keyhole. She watched as Rashid's men brought chest after chest into the room and deposited them with a loud thud on the floor. Rashid then bid the men goodnight, spoke at length to his translator who, Djaq was pleased to note, was _not_ looking very well, before ushering him out and bolting the door. Still, she waited a few moments to be certain that the coast was, indeed, clear before making any move to show herself.

"_Saffiya_? _Are you here?_" Rashid called out softly in Arabic.

She sighed at his lack of stealth and opened the closet door. "_I am right here, Rashid. Will is with me._"

"_Ah. There you are. I was not certain where you were hiding, or even if you were here at all._" He said, looking over her shoulder at Will who nodded and smiled.

"_Everything went according to plan, then? This is all of the money?_" She asked as Will retrieved a box from beneath the bed and set about removing several heavy-duty locks from within.

"_Yes. That seems to be all of it. Here is the key." _He said, reaching into his robes and handing her a large key.

"_Thank you." _She told him as she handed the key to Will who started to unlock and remove the existing locks and replace them with the ones he'd taken from the box. "_Did you have any trouble?"_

"_No. It was just as you said. Vaysey was not at all suspicious. In fact, he was relieved, just as you predicted." _He answered as he kept a fascinated eye on Will as he went quickly from one chest to the next, changing each lock as he went.

"_That makes sense considering the fact that he was probably under an enormous amount of pressure from Prince John to convince you to finally consent to accepting the money and leave England. I am glad that all went according to plan. You did very well, Rashid." _She told him sincerely.

"_I hope so. I tried to say things just as you told me. However, I did not see Robin Hood at the feast. You said that he would be present."_

"_I am sure that he was there somewhere. But, if he was doing his job properly, you would not have seen him at all. He would have blended in and remained unnoticed by everyone." _She said.

"_Yes, of course. Oh, and Dabir is feeling very unwell already. Are you certain that it was necessary to make him ill, Saffiya? After all, he is only doing what he was ordered to by my father." _He asked her anxiously.

"_Your compassion is admirable, Rashid. But yes, it was necessary. We cannot afford to have him around for the next couple of days. But, as I already explained to you, he will be fine. There will be no permanent effects." _She explained.

"_But—"_

"_Rashid, I know that this must all seem very extreme and even frightening to you, but remember the harm that this man can cause you when you return home. That is the main reason we have chosen this method of silencing him. He is not loyal to you, he is loyal to your father. Therefore he will have no difficulty in telling your father that you spent months in London refusing to even entertain the idea of accepting this payment. Do you think that your father will simply overlook that fact?"_

"_No_." He answered without meeting her eyes.

"_You are right. He will not. But once the drug we have given him takes full effect, it will render him incapable of distinguishing truth from fantasy. That will make any damaging information that Dabir tries to deliver completely without merit. Your entire household will bear witness to his confused rantings and each and every one of them will be able to tell your father about it. Not to mention the fact that this particular drug causes short-term memory loss, so I imagine that he will have difficulty remembering most of what went on here. That, combined with the fact that I will destroy his journal from this trip, should succeed in guaranteeing that your father puts no credence in anything that he has to report."_

"_You are right, of course."_ He said.

"_Rashid, I do not mean to be harsh with you." _She said in a softer tone. "_I know that this has been a trying ordeal. But I know that you are a man of peace, and that is what we are fighting for. There is a reason we have chosen to drug Dabir publicly and allow the physician to uncover the truth behind his illness. That way __we will create suspicion about Prince John and those who do his bidding. Once your father is told about the supposed attempt on your life and he discovers that Prince John has not delivered on his promise to send the money he so desperately needs, the two of them will never trust one another enough to work together again." _

"_I know the truth of what you are saying, and I am a believer in peace. Forgive me my doubting nature. It is a good thing that we are doing here. Is it not, Saffiya?"_

"_That it is, Rashid. That it is." _She answered with an indulgent smile. "_Leave the rest to us. We will start to remove the money from the chests tomorrow, but it will be a long and arduous task, seeing as there is so much of it. That is why we chose the relative privacy of this room in which to work. Once we have finished, we will fill the chests with something else and then lay money only along the tops. You should not worry. You should get some rest now." _

"_Very well, then. I will leave you now. Good night, akhawaat." _He said with a slight bow.

"_Good night."_ She returned.

"Sleep good, brother." He said in English to Will.

"Good night, Rashid." He said with a smile and watched as the man departed. And then to Djaq he said, "Well it seems that we have a long night ahead of us."

"That we have." She agreed with a smile, moving closer to where he stood.

* * *

**A/N:** Hm. I don't know quite how I feel about this chapter. There is very little fluff or angst; just plenty of teamwork, gang together-time, and mission planning and execution. I hope it all came across alright and that none of it was confusing.

Rather than have Robin explain his plan to the gang, I chose to simply allow it to unfold as the chapter progressed. I really hope that worked for everyone and that no one was lost. Let me know your thoughts, please.

Thank you to everyone who reviews and takes the time to tell me what they like as well as where there is room for improvement. Your opinions are extremely helpful. I'm happy that this story has been so well-received and I look forward to hearing what everyone thought of this chapter.


	21. Plans Gone Awry?

******Plans Gone Awry?**

Sir Guy of Gisbourne was _not_ a man accustomed to being kept waiting. Not at all. He was a man of importance. He issued orders to his men or his staff and he was obeyed quickly and without question. He merely had to snap his fingers and he could have his pick of female companionship for the night. No, he was not a man who liked to be kept waiting. So it was with great impatience that he had been pacing the castle courtyard, for the past twenty minutes or more, doing just _that_.

Waiting.

Waiting for Marian to join him. He had made arrangements to spend a few hours riding with her and he was quite anxious for them to be on their way before the Sheriff invented some 'urgent' business to keep him at the castle. He had been able to spend very little time with her away from the castle lately and he was determined that nothing should ruin their plans.

So he swallowed his impatience as best he could and he _waited_.

He was, in fact, feeling more optimistic regarding their relationship than he had been in some time. Even when they had been engaged to be married, he had always been well aware of the fact that she had agreed to the arrangement under duress. She'd needed the protection that he'd offered to her and her father and she'd been left with little option other than marrying him. It had always been painfully obvious that _he_ was the pursuer and that she merely accepted his attention as a matter of strained politeness.

She had never hidden that fact.

But now things were changing, he could tell. Everything felt different. _She_ was different. Now it was often _she_ who sought _him_ out for company or conversation and he found himself very hopeful that they were, once again, headed toward matrimony. Only this time it would be different. _This_ time he wouldn't need to lie to her. _This_ time they could come together as friends and equals and perhaps he could even start to rely on her goodness and generosity of spirit to help soothe some of the hurt and angry pride he'd carried with him for so long.

He knew that he wasn't exactly what she desired in an ideal husband and that status and wealth were not nearly enough to win the heart of a woman like Marian. And he also acknowledged that there were aspects to his personality and his job description of which she disapproved. But he recognized that she was, at last, willing to take a chance on the two of them finding their way _together_. That she, too, seemed hopeful that they could smooth out one another's rough edges and bring out the best in each other. Guy wanted that more than he'd ever wanted anything before.

And now that this ridiculous Saracen money exchange was nearing completion, he would be able to move Marian and her father back to Knighton. He knew that Marian's father was less than comfortable being at the castle, and the old man would surely be impressed when Guy arranged to have them return to their family home. That would greatly ease the tension between him and Sir Edward who, he knew, still did not quite approve of him as a husband for his only daughter.

But Sir Edward had always been far too indulgent with the woman, as far as _he_ was concerned, and it had led her to no good end. Once the two were able to resume their courtship, however, he was in little doubt of the fact that her father would see the positive influence a firm hand could have in guiding a free-spirited woman such as Marian.

Although, Guy had to admit that a part of him secretly loved her spirit and her courage. And he had the feeling there was still so much more to her that he had yet to uncover. But he would help her see that she must rein in her defiance and not make an enemy of the Sheriff. He would teach her the way the game was played. He would help her see the benefits of behaving in a manner befitting the future Lady Gisbourne. Together, they would be an unstoppable team.

"Sir!" Came a frantic voice from behind him, interrupting his musings. "Sir!"

Guy turned to see one of his lower ranking guards approaching...one of the many he did not know by either face or name "What is it?" He asked in an irritated voice.

"Sir, we've spotted one of Hood's men climbin' down the wall from the part of the castle being used by the visitors. We gave chase but `e got away." The man panted, obviously winded from running to deliver this news as quickly as possible.

_Damn_! "Are there men stationed at all exit points?" He asked quickly. Sadly, his outing with Marian would have to wait.

"Yes Sir."

"Good. I'll take a group of guards up to that wing of the castle in case any more of Hoods men are lurking about. You wait here for the Lady Marian to arrive. Explain to her that something urgent has come up and that I won't be able to join her. Do _not_ tell her what has happened. Then escort her back to her rooms and make sure she stays there until I come for her. Do you understand me?" Guy growled.

"Yes Sir." The man answered.

"Good. What is your name?"

"Smith, Sir." He said.

"Well, _Smith_, if anything should happen to Lady Marian or if she is not in her room when I come for her, I will hold _you_ personally responsible. Have I made myself clear?"

"Perfectly, Sir."

"Good." And with that, Gisbourne strode off purposefully. Hopefully he could have this problem solved before he had to bring it to the Sheriff's attention. If he could capture Hood or one of his men in the process, all the better. But right now he would settle for keeping them as far away from the Sheriff's guest and his money as possible.

"You!" Sir Guy barked, in the general direction of the head of a group of guards to his left, as he stormed his way further into the castle. "Take half of your men and scour the castle and the grounds from top to bottom. Hood's men have been spotted and I want them found _now_. The rest of you, come with me."

When they reached the Saracen wing, they were stopped in their tracks by a group of rather large Saracen guards with swords drawn.

"Stand aside. We have reason to believe there may be criminals in this part of the castle and we need to get through to search as quickly as possible." Gisbourne ordered, earning him confused and angry looks from the Saracens, but no compliance.

"I said stand _aside_!" He repeated, attempting to move forward through the wall of Saracen guards.

"_La_!" Said the largest of the men, who also appeared to be the one in charge, with a firm shake of his head. He put his hand on Gisbourne's chest and held him at bay, causing Gisbourne's own guards to draw their weapons instantly.

"No! Sheath your weapons." Gisbourne ordered his men, backing off considerably. As much as he would relish the chance at seeing all of these foreigners run through with English swords, he knew that the Sheriff, on behalf of Prince John, needed to keep their guest—as well as his father—happy. "Where is your master?" He then demanded of the largest Saracen.

"_Lam afham_." The man responded, once again giving a firm shake of his head.

"Your master. Your _master_." Sir Guy spat angrily, having a very difficult time keeping his temper in check. "Where is he? I must speak with him. There is no time to lose. _Justget him_!"

"_Lam afham_." The large man repeated.

"Rashid." Gisbourne said through gritted teeth, having finally managed to recall the name. "Get me Rashid!"

The large man at last seemed to understand. "_LaHza_!" He said in Sir Guy's direction and then turned and whispered something to one of his own men who nodded and hurried off down the hallway.

In a moment, Rashid appeared looking very concerned.

Sir Guy, wasting no time, said, "Forgive me, Sir, but we must—Where is your translator?" He asked suddenly, looking around and realizing he wouldn't get very far without one.

"Ill." Came the heavily accented reply.

Seeing as the answer was given in English, Gisbourne took the chance at continuing. "I see. Well I need access to your rooms. There may be criminals on the loose in the castle and we must capture them as well as secure the money. However, your men will not allow me to pass."

"No. Sorry. No pass." Rashid stated firmly.

"You do not understand!" Growled Gisbourne.

"Vaysey. Where is Vaysey?" Rashid asked.

"He is elsewhere in the castle. He would want you to let me through!"

"No. Bring Vaysey." And with that, Rashid turned and walked back down the hall, his guards resuming their positions with weapons drawn, allowing no one to pass.

In another part of the castle, Sheriff Vaysey sat back and stretched languidly, having just finished a leisurely and very satisfying breakfast. He allowed himself a moment to enjoy his victory. Well, perhaps more than just a mere moment. After all, he deserved it.

Prince John had been negotiating this deal for many months now and had been beside himself at being unable to properly motivate _Rusher_ or _Hasheem,_ or whatever his name was, to simply accept the money and go home. That was until he, Vaysey, had once again offered his services. And, once again, he had come through where others had failed.

Although he had _not_, in fact, expected it to be so very easy. He had assumed he would have to employ some nasty persuasive tactics and then perhaps even scare the boy clean out of his wits before he'd be able to get him to comply. But, surprisingly, it had only taken a few days and the boy had come to _him_.

Ah well. All the better. Who was he to look a gift horse in the mouth? Hm? If _Hasheem_ requested the payment and was ready to be on his way, then what was the harm in allowing Prince John to believe that just the right amount of pressure had been applied to achieve the desired end?

In fact, the Sheriff had wasted no time in dispatching a messenger to London last night to alert the Prince that everything had been done just as he had instructed. Prince John could now be in absolutely no doubt as to his loyalty and would surely reward him when he sat on the throne of England as its one and only ruler.

Ah yes. Who else had proven himself as loyal or as willing to do any task, no matter the danger or seeming impossibility? Vaysey would most assuredly find himself at the Prince's right hand, surrounded by wealth and luxury and _very_ far away from the stench of Nottingham.

He was drawn from his pleasant daydream by the sound of Gisbourne clearing his throat loudly from the doorway. "Now Gizzy. Why so glum this morning? Hm? Why aren't you smiling when there is so _much_ to smile _about?_ Come now." He said affecting a sympathetic tone as well as a deep frown as he batted his eyelashes mockingly at the other man. "Has your little leper friend rebuffed your advances yet again? Tsk tsk."

"M'Lord, we have a problem." Gisbourne said as quickly yet carefully as possible.

"A what?" He cupped his hand around his ear as if he hadn't quite heard. "A problem you say? No no no no no, Gizzy. A problem is the one thing we'd better _not_ have this morning." The Sheriff said with a dangerous smile, the morning sunlight glinting off the ruby in his tooth.

"There's a..._situation_, M'Lord, and it requires your immediate attention. One of Hood's men was spotted leaving the castle and I fear that the money you have just paid out may have been compromised." Sir Guy instinctively ducked as he delivered the final words of his rehearsed speech.

And with good reason.

"What!" The Sheriff now made no pretense of smiling, and instead rose so quickly that he knocked over his chair. He then flew out from behind his table, hurling objects at Gisbourne as he went. "One of Hood's men? Near _my _money? How could this happen? Gisbourne, you idiot! _How could this happen_? Tell me you captured him!"

"Um, no M'Lord." He muttered. "He got away. But I am attempting to search the visitors' wing of the castle in order to verify that the money has not been taken, but I have been barred access by those...by your _guest _and his minions. They will not allow anyone to pass but you, M'Lord."

"Well why are we standing here?" And he shoved past Gisbourne on his way out the door, bellowing as he went. "Guards! _Guards_!"

Gisbourne—who was trying desperately to perfect a balance between following quickly, lest the Sheriff become even more agitated, and maintaining a safe distance, lest the Sheriff feel the desire to strike someone—ventured to make a statement, "M'Lord, I have guards in the Saracen wing already. They are awaiting your arrival."

"Well why didn't you say so, you fool? Let's go!"

They made their way up to the Saracen wing of the castle very quickly, the Sheriff stomping and spewing venomous threats at anyone and everyone as they went. When they arrived, they were stopped in their tracks by the same guards. Only this time, once they spotted the Sheriff, one of them scurried off immediately to alert his master.

Rashid once again came out to meet them looking very frazzled. "Vaysey." Rashid nodded in greeting.

"Yes, yes. We need to come through. There are outlaws on the loose, you see. Please, have your men step aside." The Sheriff ordered impatiently with a wave of his hand.

"_Out_ laws?" Rashid asked in apparent confusion.

"Yes, outlaws. That's what I said. Now move aside, Hasheem—"

"It's 'Rashid', M'Lord." Gisbourne provided helpfully, earning him a scowl from the Sheriff.

"Whatever your name is," the Sheriff continued with barely veiled contempt, "I must get through here immediately to ensure that the Prince's money is secure."

"My money." Rashid corrected in much better English.

"What? Oh. Yes, fine. _Your _money then. But you clearly do not understand. These men are of an...unsavory sort. They are criminals and they have no regard for the law or for the property of good men such as yourself. Their leader is a menace and a perpetual thorn in my side. We must see to the money at once. Don't you see?" Vaysey was now becoming desperate. He was beginning to wonder just how much trouble he would be in with Prince John if he simply had this Hasheem fellow and his guards moved out of his way by force, when the man before him spoke.

"Come then. This way." Rashid said, indicating with a wave of his hand that the Sheriff should follow him.

Vaysey stepped forward gingerly, eying the armed Saracen guards as he went, though they made no further move to block his path. His guest then led him down the hall to the last room on the left and gestured for him to enter. As he did so, he saw all of the chests he had handed over the night before, seemingly undisturbed.

"See? No criminals. The money is safe." Rashid explained in heavily accented English.

"Ah. Yes well, I'm sure you won't object to my men searching anyway. Hm?" It was not really a question.

"Search quickly. Then go." Rashid said with finality, stepping aside to allow the Sheriff's guards enough room to look around and ordering his own people to do the same.

"Gisbourne!" The Sheriff bellowed loudly.

"I am right here, M'Lord." Came a voice from right behind him.

"Oh. Good. I want every inch of this wing searched. And when you've finished here, I want the entire castle searched from top to bottom."

"It is already being taken care of." Sir Guy answered.

"It had better be." The Sheriff stated menacingly before turning to go. But just as he reached the end of the corridor he stopped and returned to the room at the end of the hall and addressed Rashid. "Are those different locks?"

"Yes." Came Rashid's reply.

"I want those chests opened." The Sheriff stated.

"What?" Rashid asked, clearly shaken at the request.

"I. Want. Those. Chests. Opened." He repeated slowly, an odd look crossing his face. "_Now_."

"But why?" Rashid questioned nervously.

"I want to see for myself that the money is, indeed, undisturbed. Now where is the key?"

"Here." Rashid answered, patting the side of his robe. "My money. My locks. My key."

"Now look here." Gisbourne addressed Rashid angrily but was cut short by a stern look from the Sheriff.

"Listen, Hasheem—er, Rusher—er, whatever. You have obviously failed to grasp the severity of this situation. Your father and Prince John have an agreement, yes? You and I are merely the facilitators of said agreement and as such we have a responsibility to see to it that this money is kept safe until it reaches its destination. Surely we want the same things here. I merely want to reassure myself that this rather substantial amount of money is exactly where it _should_ be. You can certainly not object to such a..._request_." He said the last word with more than a slight hint of malice, for Vaysey was not accustomed to _making_ requests.

"I...I suppose that is so." Rashid said uncertainly, looking around. "I...I will open them." And he fished the key out of his robes and, with a shaky hand, walked over to the nearest chest and opened the lock. When he flung back the lid, the Sheriff exhaled audibly, clearly relieved to see that the money was, indeed, present. Rashid closed the lid, securing the lock in place and then went about the same process with several subsequent chests until the Sheriff seemed satisfied.

"Sir, there's nobody here." One of the guards reported to Gisbourne, who, in turn, reported the same to the Sheriff.

"See? All is well." Rashid concluded, gesturing for Vaysey and his men to be on their way.

"So it would appear." Said the Sheriff. "Gisbourne!" He bellowed, only to once again discover the man he sought standing immediately to his rear.

"Yes, M'Lord?"

"Round up your men and get them out of here." And he turned to sweep from the room.

"Do you really think that is wise?" Gisbourne questioned. "We may have gotten lucky this time, M'Lord, but we may not be so lucky the next. If Hood has gotten word of this exchange, he will surely not give up until he has his hands on the money."

"Mm. Yes. Good thinking for once, Gisbourne. Fine. Keep four of your men posted outside this room at all times."

"No!" Rashid insisted. "I have my own guards. You have intruded too much. Go now."

Ignoring him, Gisbourne continued to address the Sheriff. "I fear that may not be sufficient. You will recall, I am sure, the quick work that fake Abbess made of cleaning you out some time ago. She went out the window, making off with the tax money before anyone knew that anything was amiss. Surely Prince John would not be pleased with a similar mistake again, M'Lord."

"You let _me_ worry about pleasing Prince John!" The Sheriff said sharply. "But, you do have a point. What do you suggest?"

"I was thinking of the strongroom. It was constructed for just such a purpose and it's impenetrable."

"Hold on!" Rashid began, scanning the crowd frantically. "You cannot simply come here and take—" But he stopped abruptly and nodded slowly instead. "Fine. Take it. For safe keeping only until I depart." He said resignedly.

"Wonderful. Don't mind if I do." Said the Sheriff, beaming. "See to it Gisbourne."

"Yes, M'Lord."

"By the way." Vaysey addressed Rashid. "Where is that impatient little fellow? The one who translates for you? He was much easier to talk to."

"Apparently he is ill." Gisbourne answered instead.

"Ah. Pity. Well, carry on Gisbourne. Carry on." And with that, the Sheriff finally turned and, with great pomp and ceremony, strode back down the corridor and out of sight.

******The Previous Night...**

"Well it seems that we have a long night ahead of us." Will said to Djaq after Rashid left them alone with the chests of money.

"That we have." She agreed with a smile, moving closer to where he stood. "I will open the shutters and give the signal." And she grabbed a lit torch as she moved toward the window. She threw open the shutters and waved the torch back and forth three times in the air, as was the agreed upon signal to Robin and the others.

As she replaced the torch in its bracket on the wall, Will said, "I was thinking of hollowing out the mattress to put the bags of money in. What d'you think?"

"That is a good idea. We will not be sleeping on it tonight anyway." She answered, settling on the floor near him and beginning to open the chests.

"I have to admit, I'll miss sleeping on something so soft and comfortable." He said. "I don't think I _ever_ slept as well as I did last night. Although...I'm sure it had more to do with you being beside me than what we were sleeping on." He grinned as he leaned over and kissed her cheek sweetly.

"Oi! _Stop_ that! What are you two trying to do? _Blind_ me?" Came Allan's teasing voice as he climbed in from the window tugging on the end of a rope and hoisting up several large and heavy sacks filled with rocks. Will got up immediately and went to help.

"See John. I told you they shouldn't be trusted all alone together." Allan leaned out the window and called down. "I had to pry 'em off each other."

John, after climbing in and looking none too pleased about the height or the comment, merely grunted.

"Stop exaggerating, Allan." Will admonished. "And keep it down, will you?"

"Besides, if you are scandalized by such an innocent kiss, then you are _not_ the Allan A 'Dale that I know and love. Now get over here and start helping us. We have a lot to do tonight." Djaq paused to look behind the two men who had just joined them. "Where are the others? I thought that we were all going to remove the money together. That is what Robin said."

"Relax. Robin stopped in to see our mutual friend, as usual. But he'll be here." Allan answered.

"And the prattler went with him. _Also _as usual_._" John added with rolled eyes.

"And thank the Lord for small favors!" Allan declared, throwing his hands up. "He hasn't shut up once the whole night. Even while we were standing in the Great Hall, _mere feet_ away from the Sheriff and Gisbourne who are just _waiting_ for the chance to fry our bacon I might add, he _still_ muttered to himself the entire time. _'I hope nobody recognizes us...These guard uniforms are itchy...I wonder if Robin knows what he's doing this time?...Boy that meat looks tasty...Is that cake?'_ On and on and on."

"Ah. I take it that he is not fond of this plan, then? Cake and meat aside, of course." Djaq asked with a smile.

"When is that one ever satisfied with a plan?" John asked.

"Ahem. I quote," Allan cleared his throat and spoke in his best Much-voice, although it was slightly higher pitched than was really necessary, "_We're doing all this practically under the Sheriff's nose and we don't even get to eat the cake!_"

"You were thinking that too? So was I. It _did_ look tempting." Much agreed wholeheartedly as he appeared at the window, causing the others to burst into fits of giggles.

"Shh!" Djaq admonished, regaining control of herself. "These halls are crawling with people just beyond that door! No one is supposed to know that we are in here. Remember?"

Everyone quieted down and tried to stifle their laughter as best they could. Much, who was still uncertain as to what had sparked the laughing fit to begin with, said, "Oh. Marian is coming too. She wanted to help and Robin told her she could."

"I wonder if that's a good idea." Will stated. "It's late. What if Gisbourne figures out she's not in her chamber at this hour?"

"I told him I wasn't feeling well and would be taking a sleeping drought. He won't try to disturb me tonight." Marian answered as she preceded Robin in through the still open window.

"Are you sure that is wise, Marian? What if you are seen?" Djaq asked her.

"The same could be said for the rest of you as well. But _you're_ all here." She bristled.

"Yeah, but _we're_ outlaws. Everybody _expects_ to find us up to no good. If _you_ get caught, you're gonna have some serious explaining to do." Allan said with a shake of his head.

"She'll be alright as long as we stay in here and keep it down. Besides, she's with _me_." Robin assured them, flashing his 'hero of the people' smile and making everyone, including Marian, groan.

So the seven of them sat on the floor of Djaq's temporary bedroom, each with a chest in front of him or her, and proceeded to scoop the money into bags as silently as possible. They all talked quietly while they worked. They laughed and joked and even took turns telling stories, and it ended up being very much like any comfortable evening spent in the forest.

Except for Marian's presence, of course. She almost never came out to the camp at night unless it couldn't possibly be helped. But it felt right to have her there with them, almost like she was a regular member of the gang. Everyone was at ease and, although there was much to get done, the time and the work seemed to pass quickly enough.

"So have you given any thought to where we can keep the money, Will?" Robin asked.

"I was going to hollow out the mattress and store the bags inside. I doubt the Sheriff would think to look there when he comes up here." Will answered.

"He won't have any reason to. He'll be looking for us, not the money. As far as he'll be concerned, the money will still be locked up in the chests." Robin agreed.

"But why are we involving the Sheriff and Gisbourne at all anyway?" Much asked. "It just seems stupid to go out of our way to _get_ their attention. And then to bring them up here to the very room where the money is? It still doesn't make sense to me."

"Because making them think that the money is at risk in _this_ part of the castle is the only way to be certain that they take _it_—or what they _think_ is it—to _another_ part of the castle." Will explained. "That way they'll focus their attention on wherever they move the money _to_, and not _here_."

"Right. That way we keep them as far away from the actual money as possible and, when Rashid and his people leave for home, that will leave us free move the money out without arousing suspicion." Robin added.

"It still seems a bit risky, though. Why do we have to leave the money here in the castle anyway? Once we have it all in bags, why can't we just take it with us to the forest?" Allan asked.

"We would never be able to get that much money out of here without being detected. It's heavy, it'll jangle and make all sorts of noise, plus there's just too much of it. It would take the six of us several trips each in order to carry it all while climbing down from this height. But if we're patient, and all goes according to plan, we should be able to safely walk right out the front door with it in a few days' time." Robin told him.

"It's the part about everything going according to plan that has me worried." Much grumbled.

"Come on, Much." Robin coaxed. "Why do you hate this plan so much? It's a _good_ plan and it can work."

"It _can_. But it can also fail. Miserably." He countered.

"Oh ye of little faith." Robin teased. "The Sheriff is nothing if not predictable. Once he and Gisbourne get wind of the money being in danger, they'll move it somewhere they can keep a closer eye on it. They won't know we've already taken it. They'll make sure the chests are well guarded and then, when Rashid leaves Nottingham, the Sheriff will send most of his men along—to keep us from attacking his retinue—and that will leave the castle practically unguarded. No one will even notice a cart full of dirty old _linens_ being taken right out the front gate. They'll be too busy worrying about the money that is supposedly on its way to the Holy Land. Trust me. It'll be easy."

"_Easy_ may be overstating things a bit. But I do agree that it can work. I will just have to be certain that Rashid can pull off the deception. I haven't told him this part of it yet. I did not wish to give him any more to fret over than is necessary at one time." Djaq said.

"Yeah, I've been thinking about that." Will spoke a little uncertainly. "What if he doesn't know we have the money?"

"I do not understand. Of course he will know." Djaq answered.

"But what if we don't _tell_ him we've taken it? What if we just let him think that the Sheriff has locked away the chests with the money still inside? That way he won't have to do so much pretending and there's less chance of him messing things up. For us _and_ for him." He explained.

"But he will be heartbroken. He wants so badly to succeed at this and stop what his father is doing. He will be so disappointed." Djaq said.

"Maybe that's what's best for him." Will said gently.

"What are you saying, Will?" Robin asked.

"Look, you've seen how nervous he is." Will answered. "You've said yourself, Djaq, that he's not cut out for this. His father doesn't sound like the sort of man who will be very easy to fool. Especially when Rashid is not very good at pretending. But if he thinks we've failed and that we were interrupted by the Sheriff before we had a chance to get the money, he'll be just as shocked as his father when the chests are opened and there's nothing in them but a few coins and a bunch of river rocks. Rashid will be confused and he won't really know for sure if we actually _did_ take the money or if the Sheriff and Prince John double crossed his father. I was just thinking that maybe his startled reaction will be enough to keep him safe from his father."

"But can you do this without his help?" Marian asked.

"I think we can. His job is done, for the most part." John said thoughtfully.

Robin nodded. "Djaq?"

"John is right." Djaq agreed. "Rashid does not need to be involved in the rest of it. When the Sheriff comes up here tomorrow and demands to see the money, I will instruct Rashid on how to respond. He does not have to know that we have already removed it. Thank you, Will." She said, touching his cheek.

"What for?" He asked, reddening slightly.

"It is very kind of you to consider his safety." She responded softly. "So, have you all decided which of you will approach Gisbourne in the morning?" She asked, turning her attention to the entire group.

"I will." Allan answered with a grin. "I get to enjoy the perks that go along with wearing the guard uniform for a bit longer."

"What 'perks'? These stupid uniforms are itchy and uncomfortable." Much whined.

"Yeah but the kitchen girls seem to love a man in uniform and they always throw some extras my way." He said, grin widening.

"Food or kisses?" Djaq asked.

"Take your pick." Allan answered with a waggle of his brows.

"I pick food." Much declared.

"Yeah, well, you would." Allan laughed and the others followed suit.

"So I've made plans to meet with Guy in the morning so that he'll be waiting in the courtyard when it's time for you to talk to him. He thinks we're going riding, so he'll probably be alone. I thought that would make it easier for you." Marian said to Allan.

"Aw. Poor Gisbourne. He'll be so disappointed to miss your lovely outing." Said Robin in a tone that was clearly less than sorrowful.

"Ah well. Maybe I'll make it up to him later." Marian replied in a falsely sweet voice. Robin suddenly lost any humor. "I'm only teasing, Robin, and you know it."

"That's not funny, Marian." He replied sulkily.

They worked as the night progressed, scooping out coins as quickly and quietly as they could, and enjoying the banter while they tried to keep their minds off the sleep none of them would be getting that night.

When Djaq excused herself—for the third time—to slip behind the curtain where the chamber pot was kept, Marian mouthed the word '_Again?_' to Much who merely shrugged.

Allan, however, catching the exchange, decided to explain. "Yeah. She does that a lot lately. You get used to it. Sometimes at night though, she goes so much that I wake up and think it's raining. But nope...it's just Djaq...peeing again."

Robin, John and even Will laughed heartily at this, but Much looked shocked. "You're disgusting Allan." Much said.

"What? It's funny." Allan feigned being wounded.

"I can _hear_ you, you know!" Came a threatening voice from behind the curtain.

"Yeah? Well we can hear you too and it sounds like rain." Allan quipped.

"Very funny." She answered dryly as she came back to join the others.

"I must say, Djaq. I'm impressed. I think your chamber may be even nicer than mine. And these do not look like the Sheriff's standard furnishings. Your Saracen friend must be a man of considerable wealth and importance." Marian observed.

"Yes. These are his own belongings that he brought with him from home." Djaq answered. "And he has been very kind to me. To both of us, actually." She said with a smile in Will's direction.

"So you and he were childhood friends. Right?" Marian asked.

"Yes, I suppose that you could describe it that way. Our families have known one another for several generations, so we always saw him at weddings and other social gatherings. And he sometimes spent time at our home." Djaq explained.

"And his father's got like _twenty_ wives! Tell her." Allan prodded Djaq when Marian looked at him in disbelief.

"Not twenty, Allan." Will laughed.

"A lot, though. Like ten or something." Allan insisted.

"Six." Djaq corrected.

"_Six_? All at once? That's just...barbaric." Marian cringed.

"Barbaric? Hardly. It is actually somewhat common where I come from." Djaq answered simply. She was not offended by Marian's statement, as she herself often mentally expressed the same sentiments regarding certain English customs with which she was unfamiliar.

"Really? Those poor women. It must be so terrible for them. Being pushed aside, having to compete for their husband's attention." Marian continued with a shake of her head.

"They must not mind it _too_ much. They agree to it, don't they? Maybe they like it that way." Allan offered with a shrug.

"You all don't know how it is over there. The women in that part of the world have very little freedom. They're considered the property of their father or husband and they must marry where they are told or face banishment or even _death_." Much explained to the group in a very solemn and authoritative manner, leaving Djaq unable to do anything but burst into laughter.

Everyone stopped sorting the money and stared at her in shock.

"I would think that you, of all people, would be sympathetic, Djaq. It's not funny." Much chided.

"No it really isn't. I think it's quite sad, actually." Marian agreed with a frown.

"Are you serious?" Djaq, having finally recovered herself, asked no one in particular. "Much, wherever did you hear such ridiculous nonsense as that?" Much squirmed and stammered under her gaze and she noticed that Robin, at least, had the decency to cast his eyes down.

"Well...I...I mean Robin says..." His voice trailed off as he looked to his leader for help but found him completely absorbed in a piece of lint on the carpeting.

"Uh huh. That is what I thought. Robin why did you tell him such a thing?" Djaq asked him sternly.

"I don't understand. Isn't that _so_?" Will asked her.

"Absolutely not! The women in my homeland are the property of _no one_. Frankly speaking, from what I have observed, we have more rights than your average European woman." She answered heatedly.

"But you used to say that if your people could see you running around the forest dressed in trousers and living with men, they would disown you." Will reminded her.

"I do _not_ recall telling you that I would be disowned. But they would be shocked, that is true." She admitted.

"See?" Much said.

"Marian? Was your father very understanding when you first became the Nightwatchman?" Djaq asked her innocently.

"Well, he didn't actually find out about my activities for a few years." She answered, caught off guard by the abrupt change in subject.

"Oh. Why?" Djaq asked.

"He found out quite by accident, really. I would never have told him willingly. He would not have understood."

"Is he opposed to acts of charity, then?" Djaq pressed her.

"No. No of course not. But I knew that he would disapprove of the idea of me dressing up and sneaking around and putting myself in dangerous situations. He—Oh." She reddened. "You tried to trick me, Djaq. That was not very nice." But she smiled in understanding.

"I am sorry. But I think that we can all agree that Sir Edward is an honorable and decent man and that he is a caring father. Is it so strange, then, that my own people would find my behavior here somewhat untraditional?" Djaq asked them.

"No. I guess not." Will said after thinking for a moment. "It's just that Robin always told us that women over there are heavily guarded and that they must be chaperoned at all times. He said that they are hidden away and regarded as possessions."

"Robin!" Djaq admonished.

"Djaq, I meant no disrespect. But when I was in the Holy Land, the only time I ever _saw_ your women was peeking out of upper windows or scurrying from one building to another before they could be seen. They did not go about in general society." Robin told her.

"Oh I see. So if an invading army marched into Nottingham tomorrow, your men would send their _women_ out to greet the invaders, would they? They would surely not try to keep their wives and mothers and daughters safe by keeping them inside and away from the _very_ men who were sent to slaughter them. No. _That_ would be barbaric." She laughed again, this time without any mirth. Will tried to put a soothing hand on her lower back, which she allowed, but it did nothing to calm her. "You were a stranger in my land, Robin. Did you never consider that the women were hiding from _you_?" Djaq responded.

"Well, no." Robin admitted. "But—"

"But you've said yourself that marriages over there are _arranged_." Much insisted. "Remember when Robin performed the marriage of Eleri and Harri from Locksley last year? You kept saying over and over how odd it was that they had chosen one another by themselves instead of having their families arrange it. You said that in your homeland, _families_ decide on suitable marriage partners, not foolish young people who think they're in love. That's what you said."

"There is a vast difference between an _arranged_ marriage and a _forced_ one. Is there not? And are you telling me that there are no arranged marriages between your Nobles here in England? You, Robin, were betrothed to Marian since you were children. No?" Robin, Marian and Much all nodded.

"The difference is that _we_ take _all_ marriages seriously. Not only those of the upper classes. Where I come from, a marriage is considered more than simply the joining of two hearts and two people. It is a contract. It is a bond between families and it represents faith and honor and many other things." She looked at them all pointedly and then turned her attention back to Much.

"But I am certain that I _never_ implied that our women were forced to marry men against their wishes." She told him. "In fact, Mohamed taught that a father may _not_ compel his daughter to marry where she does not wish it. And the Qur'an states very plainly that a man, once married, must honor his wife and treat her with kindness and respect. So our women are very well protected, yes. Just _not_ in the way that you believed. We have rights and freedoms, we own property, some even have professions, we are given the same education as _men_. How many European women can say the same?"

"Calm down, lass." John said soothingly. "No one is arguing anymore." And he turned and gave a hard look in Much's direction.

"I am not angry, John. It is just...People should not state something as a fact when they really do not _know_. That leads to ignorance and prejudice. But I am not angry. I did not mean to speak as if I were. I understand that there are misconceptions between our people. We are so different that there are bound to be. Before I came here, I had many ideas about Europeans in general. And most of them have been proven false during my time with all of you. But I _believed_ what I heard simply because I knew no differently. You should not believe or repeat everything you are told, Much." She said in a gentler tone of voice.

"What sorts of things?" Marian asked. When Djaq looked confused, she elaborated. "You said that you had false ideas about Europeans before you came here. Like what?" She asked curiously.

"I would rather not say." Djaq responded with a slightly guilty smile. "But, for what it is worth Marian, the idea of a man having multiple wives does not really appeal to me either."

"You never have to worry about that. You'll always be more than enough for me." Will whispered in her ear making her smile.

"But I would not go so far as to call it barbaric." She continued. "Allan is right. The women usually do not seem to mind the arrangement and are, in fact, very well provided for. As are their children. Still, it would not suit me."

"I'm glad to hear it, Djaq. I know that I could _never_ abide such a thing either." Marian said with a pointed look in Robin's direction.

"Oh I don't know. The idea doesn't sound so bad to _me_." He said, earning him a punch in the arm. "Ow!"

"Only if _I_ could have several husbands. That way, when one of them vexed me, I could simply send him to his room and pick up with another." She smiled wickedly at him.

"Now _that_ is something that will never be allowed in any culture or religion." Djaq rolled her eyes at the pair.

"You never know. Maybe some day. We can hope, can't we?" Marian responded, her smile widening for Robin's benefit.

"No. It would never work. It _can_ not." Djaq insisted with a shake of her head for emphasis.

"Why not?" Marian asked.

"Children." John stated simply.

"That's right. If a man has more than one wife, there is no question as to the parentage of whatever children he has. _He _is their father and their mother is, obviously, whichever woman gave birth to them. But if a woman had more than one husband, it would be much more difficult to determine her children's true parentage. And no man wants to leave his estate to another man's child." Djaq explained.

"So is this how you all normally spend your evenings together?" Asked Marian with a smile. "Dissecting complex issues of race and religion?"

"Hardly." Will laughed. "We usually sit around the fire and discuss the day's events or tomorrow's plans or someone tells a story or something."

"Do not be too charmed by it Marian. The truth is that very often we get on one another's nerves so badly that we spend the entire evening either bickering or trying to ignore one another." Djaq added.

"Well, I'm sorry you seem to have such a miserable time with us. I always thought you enjoyed our company." Allan sulked.

"You see what I mean." She said to Marian. And then to Allan, "Of course we have good times. I just do not want Marian to get the wrong idea."

"And just what would that be?" Much asked.

"That our lives are easy or like some endless party. To someone who does not spend every day with us, I imagine that being an outlaw might even seem glamorous. They might not consider the days when we are cold or hungry or soaking wet. Or the times when we are stuck inside the camp for days on end. It is not always exciting or even dangerous. Sometimes it can get rather boring. I just think that Marian should be aware of _everything_. Not just the good times."

"But you still love it though, don't you Djaq?" Marian asked her seriously.

"Yes." She admitted, her face softening. "I do. Very much. We are a family and we work very well together. I would not trade any of these silly men for anything and they know it."

"I don't know about that. You sure ditched us fast enough for the chance to stay in this fancy room." Much teased. "Although I suppose that Will is just as guilty of that as you are."

"We're not guilty of ditching anyone, Much. We're here as part of the mission. That's all." Will answered with a chuckle. "And if we happen to enjoy a little privacy and luxury while we're here, well that can't be helped."

"That reminds me." Robin said, having emptied his second chest and starting on a third. "I meant to ask you Djaq. What made you change your mind about telling Rashid you were married? I thought we agreed it would be better if he didn't know."

"Yes. That had been my intention. But he kept trying to get me to return to Acre with him, so I finally figured out that the only way to convince him I was really serious about staying here was to tell him about Will."

"You didn't tell me that." Will said accusingly.

"I did not think that it was important." She blinked, startled by his tone.

"How could it not be important?" He asked with a hint of pain in his voice. "You're my wife and the mother of my child. If some other man wanted to take my family away from me, I think I have a right to know." He said in desperation.

"You are making far too much out of this." She whispered as quietly as possible, not enjoying being a spectacle for the others. "First of all, he did not _know_ that I was your wife when he offered to escort me home. That is the whole point. I told him about you so that he would know how happy I am here and that I have no intention of leaving. No matter how many times he brings it up_. _And now he understands_._" She added, somewhat confused and hurt over his very public reaction.

Silence.

From everyone.

"The offer was not made as some sort of _romantic gesture_!" She grudgingly explained to the group after the very uncomfortable silence had become nearly unbearable. "I had already told him that I was brought here against my will and that Robin and the rest of you rescued me from the Sheriff. I needed him to understand why I trusted Robin with my life and why _he_ should as well. But then he assumed that I had only _stayed_ this long because I feared facing the people back home after I had run off so abruptly. He thought that maybe I was ashamed of things that had happened to me and the choices I had made and he wanted me to know that he would help me. As a brother might. That is all."

"I'm sorry, Djaq. Of course he would offer you the chance to go home. I shouldn't've acted that way." Will said with genuine contrition.

"I suppose that I should have mentioned it to you. I was not trying to conceal it. I really did not think that it was important. I thought that you knew I would never leave. Not now." She told him.

"What about before, though?" Much asked sadly. "If he had come before you were with Will, would you have left us?"

"How can I answer that, Much?" She asked uncomfortably.

"Easy. Just say yes or no." He said.

"But it is _not_ easy. How can I know what I would have done if things were different? I do not think that I would have gone. I have been happy here. But I can not know for certain. Remember, I could have gone home at almost any time if I had wanted to. I could have returned with Prince Malik last year. For that matter, I could have gone back with the other captives when Robin offered me the chance the first day that I met all of you. I _chose_ to remain here."

"Because of what you said? Because you were afraid to face people after running away?" Much asked.

"What? _No_. What are you talking about, Much? And why are you asking all of these personal questions anyway? You are always impertinent but even you have never shown the slightest interest in my reasons for being here."

"It's just that I always thought you decided to join us that first day because you were grateful for being freed and because...well...because you didn't _have_ anything to go back to in the Holy Land. No family, no home. I...I thought you were like _us_...that you'd _lost_ everything. We shared our lives and I always assumed that _we _became...became your family and that _this_ was your home." Much stammered.

"I _am_ grateful. And you _are_ my family. All of you. What has changed to make you think otherwise?" She asked.

"Well now you make it sound like you could have gone back any time and picked up right where you left off. And you say that this man, Rashid, treats you like a sister and he is clearly a very _wealthy_ man. So it sounds like you still have friends and maybe even family over there who might welcome you back if you wanted and I guess it makes me wonder why you stayed here at all? If your family and his have known each other for generations, like you said, and he is as wealthy as he seems, then your relatives must be wealthy as well and you could probably have had a decent life over there. So why did you run away to begin with and why would you have wanted to stay with strangers and sleep on the ground and be cold and hungry and in constant danger when you could have been living the life of a Noble?" Much wondered.

"That is none of your business." She snapped. "You know what? I have grown tired of this. I am a very private person, you know. I have _always_ been." She swept over all of them with an irritated glare. "I am weary of having my personal business discussed so openly all of the time now. Everyone is always making a discussion out of where I go, where I sleep, with whom I speak, whether I am being careful or not. I understand that part of that is inevitable because of the pregnancy and marriage and even a little bit because of my involvement in this mission. But _this_ is too much! Now you want my thoughts and my memories as well? You go too far in your curiosity. Now do your work and leave me alone." She ordered angrily.

Will pulled her rigid form very close to him—which she neither resisted nor facilitated—and pressed his mouth against her ear. "Don't be upset. Much is just being Much. Ignore him." He whispered so that only she could hear. "And I really _am_ sorry. I didn't mean to embarrass you. I love you. Please don't be angry."

She nodded but said nothing. Neither did anyone else and the easy banter and general lightness of a few moments before was replaced with a strained sort of quiet and an extreme level of discomfort. Everyone pretended to concentrate on his or her task and no one wanted to take a chance on being the first to say something that might cause tempers to flare again. Finally, after taking several deep breaths and trying to restore some sense of balance to her thoughts and feelings, Djaq decided to speak.

"I have friends and family over there. But the people who were important to me are dead and gone." She began in a voice that sounded, even to her, like it belonged to someone else. She did not once look up from the chest of money she was sorting.

"You don't owe us any explanation." John said firmly.

But she continued. "Much is right about one thing. You all have shared every part of your lives with me and if you need this in order to understand me, then fine." She took another deep breath. "The family that I loved, and that loved me, _is_ gone. You were correct when you assumed I had lost everything. I lost everything I loved. _That_ is why I left. I did not want that life without them. I was a coward and did not even bother to say goodbye to anyone. I was selfish—"

"Djaq, you don't—" Will tried but she kept talking.

"I believed that I was the only person ever to suffer such a loss, so I ran off thinking that no one could possibly understand what I was going through. I made some questionable choices. The details are really none of your concern. They are private. But there _are_ still a few people who care about me there, but most of them—if not all—believe me to be dead. Just another casualty of the endless Crusades. I learned that from Rashid on his first night here."

"Sorry, Djaq. I shouldn't have pried." Much said plaintively.

"Shh!" She hissed. "It is true that my family is wealthy, but my father was a simple man by nature and we lived rather more humbly than most of our relations. Still, we lived well. There is no point in trying to deny our wealth now, I suppose. I never brought it up because I was raised to understand that matters as intimate as one's finances are rather crude to disclose." She said pointedly. Much squirmed.

"Besides, that has not been a part of my life for a long time. I suppose that what you say is true, Much. After I was captured and brought here, I could probably have returned to Acre and made some claim on the estates of both of my parents and lived a life of relative comfort. But it never crossed my mind. I do not know why I decided to stay here with all of you in the beginning. I guess that I admired what you were trying to do for the poor and I thought that perhaps I could fight for something I believed in for a change. The hardships seemed small compared to that. Is that so different from the reasons that the rest of you started doing this? You could all have moved on and made a life elsewhere, I am certain. _I_ stayed because it seemed the right choice for me at the time. Now _this_ is my home. That is all you need to know. Do not ask me about this again. Please. Some things are painful to relive and I prefer to focus on the present. That is my right, is it not?"

"Of course it is." Robin said. "We're glad you chose to stay with us, Djaq. And John's right. You don't owe us any explanations."

"Ow!" Much exclaimed. "You kicked me!"

"I did not. And anyway, if I had, you'd deserve it for upsetting Djaq." Allan said.

"You _did_!" Much insisted, rubbing his leg. "And I didn't mean to upset her. I just didn't want her to leave us."

"Knock it off! Both of you." Robin ordered in a tone that they knew meant his patience was wearing thin.

"Allan, do not kick Much." Djaq said. "Much, would like me to take a look at your injury?" She asked. Much nodded and she got up and moved to where he sat on the floor. She went through the pretense of thoroughly inspecting every inch of his shin and then she replied in her most serious physician's tone, "There does not appear to be any permanent damage. But I will have to keep a close eye on you for a few days just to be certain. Just as a precaution, you should try to eat as much as possible for a few days. Physician's orders."

He smiled and took her hand for a brief moment, both of them accepting the unspoken olive branch that the other was extending.

Suddenly Marian began to chuckle. "I believe you about the bickering, Djaq, but you'll never convince me that things could _ever_ be boring around here."

The rest of them started to laugh as well and some of the tension was eased. They immediately resumed their work and little by little, the conversation picked up again. When they had finally emptied the very last chest, they began the laborious task of filling them up with stones. Then they laid just enough coins over top of the stones to create the illusion that the chests were full of money. Will cut open the mattress and pulled out the filling—which he was surprised to find was made up of fine, silky feathers—before packing the bags of money in the casing and closing it back up.

As light began to pierce the sky, they were finally finished.

"Well, lads, I'd say that about does it." Robin announced "We should go now so that Djaq can get ready to deal with Rashid. Marian, I'll take you back to your room now. Allan, get your helmet on and get ready to meet with Gisbourne in a little while. The rest of us will meet you back at camp. Will, are you coming with us or staying here?"

"I'll be along in a minute. You go ahead." Will answered.

Robin nodded.

"Goodbye, Djaq." Marian gave a small wave.

"Goodbye, Marian. It was nice to have you working with us. I wish it could happen more often." Djaq said affectionately, earning her a grateful smile from the other woman.

The rest of the gang bid their farewells and departed until at last it was only Will and Djaq.

"Are you still angry with me?" Will asked carefully.

"We do not have time to discuss this matter at present. We will talk later." She answered shortly.

She was not angry with him, but she found herself faced with a problem she had not anticipated. There would surely be times when she and Will disagreed or even became angry with one another. That was normal in any relationship. But they would have to devise a plan for dealing with their issues away from the rest of the gang.

Not only was it embarrassing to her and to Will to discuss their private matters in a public setting, but it was unfair to the others as well. It was one thing for the six members of their group to have heated discussions in each other's presence, but it was quite another for a married couple to do so.

"Djaq." He swallowed hard over the lump that was forming in his throat. It had taken so long for them to get to the point where it seemed as if everything would finally work out between them. He couldn't believe that he had been so stupid as to throw it all away over some childish fit of jealousy. "Please. _Please_. I don't want to lose you. Not now."

She spun around to face him and pushed him against the wall with so much force that he feared she planned to do him bodily harm.

"Don't you ever let me hear you say anything like that again!" She had her palms pressed against his chest as she kept his shoulders pinned to the wall.

He was momentarily distracted by the surprising amount of strength she suddenly seemed to possess. It was disconcerting and more than a little frightening. She, sensing his fear and confusion, released him. "It is not about size or strength." She said in explanation, as if reading his thoughts—which was no less frightening to him. "It is about speed, pressure and catching your opponent off guard. One day I will teach you. A woman as small as I am does not survive so long fighting against men without learning a trick or two...or three." And she smiled at him causing him to release a breath he hadn't even realized he'd been holding.

"But I meant what I said. Don't say anything like that again. Don't even think it." She said, with much less harshness than before.

"I know. It was stupid. I got jealous and I don't even know why. I just—" He stopped when she placed a finger gently over his lips.

"That is not what I am referring to. I understand why you panicked when you heard that Rashid offered to take me back with him. I've hurt you. I know that. It will take time to trust what he have together." She craned her neck and replaced her finger with her lips. She lingered there for just a moment before pulling back. "But you must never speak of losing me. People argue, Will. _We_ will argue. But we are a family. You and me. Aside from every_one_ and every_thing_ else, you and I are a family. I love you. You will not lose me. You must be secure in that."

He nodded, relieved. "But I _am_ sorry. I know you wouldn't leave me and I know that he was just being kind to you. I shouldn't have overreacted."

"You should not keep your thoughts to yourself. If you have concerns, we _should_ talk about them. I am learning that it can be good for us to discuss our feelings. Especially our fears. But please, let us be careful what we say in front of the others. I am trying very hard to be open with you although it really is not my nature or habit. But I want to give all of myself to you. Do you understand? But that..._privilege_...does not extend to the others. Only to you. I care for them, but I will not open myself up to them. And if we make them a part of our private dealings, they will not know where to draw the line."

"I understand. And you're right. It means so much to know that you trust me with what's in your heart. Thank you. I won't betray that." Will told her earnestly.

"I know that. And once Rashid leaves England and we are both back at the camp for good, we will figure out how much affection we are comfortable with around other people. There is time for that. But promise me now that our private _disagreements_ will remain private from this point forward. Please."

"I promise. I love you." He said, leaning down to kiss her gently.

"I love you, _habibi_." She said when the kiss ended. "Now go. Rashid will be coming soon and I must figure out what I will say to him. We have to make sure that the Sheriff is disturbed enough by this supposed outlaw sighting that he has the chests moved. Otherwise, we will have to come up with some other plan for getting the money out of here right under the Sheriff's nose, as Much would say."

"Speaking of Much, are you alright? About what happened earlier?" He asked.

"Yes. Much and I have made our peace. I am fine. Thank you for asking. Now _go_." She said, playfully shoving him towards the window.

"Alright. Alright." He laughed.

Over an hour later, she heard the commotion at the end of the corridor which she assumed was either Gisbourne, the Sheriff or both . So she was not surprised when Rashid began knocking frantically on her chamber door a moment later.

"_Enter_." She called out in Arabic. "_Ah, Rashid. Good morning. I heard commotion. Has something happened?_"

"_That man. The dark haired one who is always with Vaysey. He is here and he is asking to see me. My guards have detained him. What should I do Saffiya? What do you suppose he wants?_"

"_You know, Will left a short while ago._" And she pretended to be thoughtful for a moment. "_I hope he was not seen by anyone. If he was, he may have been recognized. If that is the case, the Sheriff and his __men may want to be certain that the money is still safe. Do not be nervous. Just go out and greet him but do not allow him back here yet. Tell him that you will only allow him to come through if he is accompanied by the Sheriff himself. Then, when he goes to get the Sheriff, return here and I will tell you what we must do. Go on. It will be alright._" She told him confidently.

Once he did as she bid and returned, he was even more anxious. "_It was just as you feared. He spoke of criminals and he wished to search these rooms and verify that the money is safe. What do we do? Do you think that your husband is in danger?_"

"_No no. Will is very clever and he will have evaded the guards. Do not worry about him. And as for the money, when the Sheriff arrives, you should allow him to see the money if he wishes. We do not wish to make him suspicious. So if he wishes to search for outlaws, allow it. If he wishes to see the money, allow that as well. Do not make it too easy for him, or he may wonder why you are not more __cautious, but you do not wish to make an enemy of him. He can be a dangerous man, Rashid._"

"_Very well. I will do as you instruct._"

"_Here is the key to the new locks that Will put on the chests. If the Sheriff notices them, simply explain that you wanted your own locks with your own key. He can surely not find that very strange. The money is now yours, after all. And no matter what happens or what the Sheriff or his men say or do, do not panic. I will put on my robe and veil and I will go out to the hall and try to blend in with your people. There will be enough commotion that I should go unnoticed. If you become confused or nervous, just find my face in the crowd and I will indicate to you what you must do. Alright?_"

"_Yes. Thank you, akhawaat. I will do just as you say._"

She tried to ignore the guilty feeling that had settled in her chest. "_Good. Now, give me a few moments to ready myself and slip into the hall undetected._" She said.

Quite a while later, after Gisbourne had his guards thoroughly search the premises and then remove the chests as per the Sheriff's orders, Rashid and Djaq returned to her chamber unseen.

"_What will we do now, Saffiya?_" He asked in a wretched voice.

"_First, it would be best if you informed the Sheriff that you plan to depart from England as soon as possible. Then, have your staff pack up your household and be ready to go as soon as the Sheriff can arrange transport. It will more than likely be quite soon. He will be anxious to tell Prince John that the money is on its way to your father. I will alert Robin to this new development and he will devise a new plan. Please do not worry. I have been involved in enough of these capers that I have come to expect the unexpected. Things rarely go as planned. But it will be fine in the end. You must trust that._"

"_Do you think that Robin will give up now that the money is locked away?_"

"_No. Robin knows that these things sometimes happen. He will probably attempt to steal the money from the strongroom." _She again ignored that feeling of guilt._ "If that proves impossible, he can always put together a raid to rob your party while you are traveling to the port._"

"_I thought that he said I would be too heavily guarded for that to be feasible._"

"_Yes, that is what he said. But he will try his best to find a way. Remember, he is man of peace. He will do all that he can to secure it. And, if it happens that he is unable to recover the money, you must not blame yourself. You have acted very bravely, Rashid. We can not control everything. I thought I __learned that lesson long ago, but it turns out that I am only just now coming to understand it._" She tried to reassure him.

"_But should I not stay here until Robin finds a means of getting the money? Why must I leave so soon when the plan is not yet a success?_"

"_Because we have only given your translator enough of the hallucinogenic substance to remain in his system for a few days. Any more than that would be too dangerous for him. So you need to be on your way before he recovers. We already spoke about the danger he can pose to you with your father. Let us not forget that part of the plan. Speaking of your translator, what has your physician concluded about his illness?_"

"_He informs me that Dabir was the victim of attempted poisoning and that I was most likely the intended target. Just as you said._"

"_Good. It is important that your staff believe that. The fact that the Sheriff and his men stormed in here today and demanded the money will only serve to make your people more suspicious of him. That will help you later on. Even if we fail here, your safety upon returning home must be assured._"

"_But if we fail at this, there will not be peace! That is far more important._"

"_One way or another, there will be peace. You must have faith._" She thought for a moment, wanting to offer him something to believe in. "_Rashid, I want you to remember something that you may not understand just yet. Alright? Even when it seems that all is lost and that there is no hope for success, it is still possible that things will work out in the end. Perhaps just not in the way that you may have envisioned them. Do you understand?_"

"_I am sorry, Saffiya, but I do not._"

"_No, of course not. But one day you will. You are a good man Rashid and you deserve happiness and peace in your life. I hope that you will find it."_

"_I know that you have found happiness, Saffiya, but I do not think that you have yet found peace. So I hope that you, too, will find it. Your family would be very proud of the woman you have become._"

"_Thank you." _She said, genuinely touched by the sentiment._ "Rashid, I wonder if I may ask a favor of you?_"

"_Of course. You may ask anything._"

"_When you return to Acre, and enough time has passed that your father will not scrutinize your every move, would you take a message to someone for me?_"

"_Lord Bassam?_" He asked.

"_How did you know?_" She asked him.

"_You must have asked me one hundred questions about him on the first night that we spoke. I could tell then how much you missed him. I would be happy to deliver any message you wish. I will have parchment brought so that you may write him a letter._"

"_No. If it were to be discovered among your belongings or on your person, it would cast doubts on your loyalty to your father. He would wonder where you got the letter and why you were delivering it. It would be best if the message were a verbal one. Please, just tell Bassam that I am alive. Tell no one else though, I beg you. The fewer people who know that you have encountered me in England, the safer you will be. Your father probably has more spies than even you are aware of._"

He nodded.

"_But tell Bassam that I am sorry for my...just tell him that I am sorry. He will understand. Tell him that I was selfish but that he was always good to me. Tell him I love him and that I am content with my life here. If he asks you about me and my activities, or about Will, you may tell him everything. You have my consent to answer whatever he wishes to know about me. He can be trusted. He may even be able to help you get a message to the Sultan, about those who are working against him, without anyone knowing it came from you. Trust him. He too is a man of peace._"

"_I will do as you have said. But you are not yet leaving, are you?_"

"_No. I will stay in this chamber until you depart. If that is agreeable to you._" She answered.

"_Yes. Please stay. Your husband as well, of course._"

"_Thank you. Now. You should speak with the Sheriff and your staff. There are many arrangements to be made for your journey._"

As Rashid left to do as she had instructed, Djaq sat down on the divan and as she felt her baby wiggle inside of her, she thought over all that had happened in the past few days. She thought over the conversation she had just shared with Rashid. She had not intended to have him deliver any messages for her upon his return to Acre. But her conversation with Much and the others had brought up feelings she had long suppressed and she now decided, as she rubbed her palm gently over her belly and began to softly sing a lullaby, that perhaps, as she faced the present and looked toward the future, it might not be such a bad idea to make amends with the past.

**_A/N: Sorry for the delay in posting this one. Real Life and all that. I know that this was a long chapter, but if you made it to this point on the page, you must have read it all. Thanks for that! =) What did you think? Click the button and tell me._**

**_P.S. I suppose I should explain about some of the things that were discussed by Robin and Much regarding the role of women in the Holy Land during this time. Thank you to_ bkwrm** **_for bringing to my attention the fact that there may be some confusion regarding the historical accuracy of such information. Muslim women of that time actually did have much more freedom and were given more respect and larger roles in society than their modern-day counterparts. (My assumptions about modern Muslim women are shaped almost entirely by the media, mind you. So I may be incorrect in that aspect) I have done some rather extensive research on the subject of women's roles during the Middle Ages and everything I have read leads me to believe that Arab women were far more advanced in education and standing than were their European counterparts of the time._ _But I do not claim to be any sort of an authority on the subject, so I would be happy to hear what all of you think._**


	22. Changes

**A/N:** A few Arabic translations: **thamra** = date, **habal** = pregnancy, **khubz** = a very basic Middle Eastern bread, **aqeeqah** = a Muslim tradition of "sweetening" in which a softened date is rubbed across a newborn baby's gums just after birth

**Changes**

_She was running again...over the sand...trying to get...**somewhere**_..._anywhere. She wasn't even certain if she was running **from** or running **to** something. She was just **running**. She was holding a bundle in her arms, just as she always seemed to be. But this time she knew that the bundle contained a baby...her baby...Will's baby. She knew she had to protect it at all costs...she had to keep moving....had to be careful not to trip or sink down in the sand. But she was **so** very tired. She didn't think that she could do it all alone. She didn't always have to be the strong one. That's what he had **told** her. But where **was** he?_

_Once again the sand felt foreign to her...**she** felt foreign in the **sand**. She did not belong here anymore. She wanted to run towards home...but where was home exactly? She stopped and she looked around quickly. And there it was. There **he** was. He had his arms outstretched and he was smiling...the light in his eyes beckoning her toward him. She moved without thinking. She let him pull her into his embrace. He was solid and real and everything good and then..._

_He was gone._

Djaq awoke with a start and shook herself for being so silly. Nightmares were for children. She sleepily scooted closer to Will and felt around for his arms to snuggle into, mildly surprised that he was not holding her in his sleep, as had become his habit.

But of course, he wasn't there.

He hadn't been there for two days.

She groaned inwardly and reminded herself that she had slept without him for most of her life and that she would surely survive for a few _days_. It was strange that waking with his arms around her had, in the space of a few nights, become as easy and comfortable as anything she'd been doing for her entire life. Still, he wasn't with her now and she needed her sleep, so there was no point in dwelling on his absence. She turned over and tried to drift off again.

Will had volunteered to be the one to trail Rashid's group to the port for their return trip to Acre. The rest of them had stayed behind to move the money out of the castle once the Saracens had gone. But Robin had decided that it would be best if one of them followed the party closely in order to ensure that there was no further suspicion about the contents of the chests. So naturally, Will had volunteered.

Djaq was actually rather relieved that Will had been the one to go. She could not go herself, in her condition. And, although she knew that any of the others were more than capable of the task, she also knew that none of them were particularly invested in Rashid's safety. Sure, they'd do what they could to ensure his wellbeing if the need arose, just as they would do for any other human being, but they would be anxious to get the trip over with and return to Nottingham.

But Will had shown a genuine concern for Rashid's safety over the course of the mission. So she felt confident that he, despite wanting to return home to her as quickly as possible, would see to it that everything was just as it should be before heading back.

She hadn't counted on missing him so much, though. Perhaps she should have, but it had been a total surprise. She had figured on a few pangs when they sat around the camp after supper and swapped tales and anecdotes, and she had anticipated feeling lonesome when bedtime came around, but she hadn't expected this constant ache for him...this longing that filled her chest and just wouldn't budge. It was _terrible_.

_Her_ first night back at camp should have been _their_ first night sharing her bunk. They had known it would be a little cramped and might even be a bit awkward in front of the others, but they had both been looking forward to it being the start of their normal lives together.

Instead, she had found herself alone and missing him and had, at the last minute, decided to crawl into _his_ bunk just to feel closer to him. She wanted to breathe in his scent and curl up in his blanket—even though it was summertime and a blanket would ordinarily be nothing but a nuisance—and sink into the curves and indentations of his bedroll, worn over time to hold the shape of the spot and position he always slept in. Now, on her second night at the camp without him, she tossed and turned and tried hard to get comfortable. All to no avail.

She should have been able to relax easily. After all, everything had gone exactly according to plan. In fact, for all the months of speculation, the weeks of strategizing, and the days of scrambling to see to it that every possible twist and turn was carefully considered, the act of actually _taking_ the money had proved to consist of very little drama or adventure. It had truly ended up being just about as easy as Robin had predicted—a fact which managed to shock even the members of the gang who had thrown their fervent support behind the plan from the beginning.

For it was a fact well known and accepted by the outlaws that Robin's plans almost _never_ went as smoothly as he foretold. And the gang would often find themselves in the middle of a sticky situation before realizing that their leader had, yet again, jumped in—and taken them along—without looking. But, as it turned out, Prince John already had a ship on standby at the port, just waiting to transport Rashid and his people home. And the Sheriff had been more than anxious to see them on their way. So, once the household was packed up and ready to go, there was really no earthly reason to delay any longer.

Of course, Rashid had wanted very badly to stay on at the castle until Robin concocted a new plan for getting the money. Djaq felt terribly bad for him, she really did, because she knew how much he wanted to stop his father and Prince John, and he had no idea that Robin already _had_ a plan which did not include him. So, naturally, he felt like a failure.

He insisted that he'd failed both their countries, and their faiths, and even Djaq herself. And no matter how many times she tried to tell him how bravely he had acted or how, sometimes, you just have to trust that everything will work out as it should, he was still mightily discouraged. In fact, he had become so vehement in his self-recrimination, that she had begun to fear that he would try to dispose of the 'money' on his own after the Sheriff had handed it over. So she'd made him promise that he would not take matters into his own hands under any circumstances and she finally felt that she had gotten through to him...at least on that point.

Once the packing of the household belongings had begun—and there were _so_ _many_ belongings—Djaq had actually seen very little of Rashid. He had been needed elsewhere. He had ordered that all of the furnishings and tapestries from the room she'd been using were to remain behind—supposedly as a gift to the Sheriff for his hospitality—so that she could continue to use the room in comfort until he departed. She hadn't really cared about the décor, but she _had_ been relieved that no one would be rummaging through the room. There was, after all, an enormous sum of money hidden within.

So she and Will—who'd had to be extra careful coming and going from the castle after the fake outlaw sighting had put the Sheriff's guards on high alert—had spent the next two nights in peace, comfort, and relative privacy. On the day of Rashid's departure, Aminah, his loyal servant, had come to the chamber and offered Djaq several baskets filled with the spices, dried herbs, medicines, and dried fruits of her homeland.

It was a wonderful gesture and far too generous, and Djaq had _tried_ to refuse. But Aminah had insisted and Djaq had been more than grateful for the supplies. As much as she had tried to adapt her skills in healing as well as her palate to suit the offerings of England, there were certain things that were impossible to come by here and that she found she sorely missed.

"_**Thank you. All of this will prove very useful to me, I am certain. But will your master and his household not need these supplies on your return voyage?**_" _Djaq had asked._

"_**We have plenty. The Master brought with him far more than could ever be used even by a group as large as ours. And we are returning to our own land where we will have unlimited access to more. You will have no such opportunity. Take them, please.**_" _She'd replied kindly._

"_**Thank you once again. I will make good use of them.**_"

"_**My Lady? If I am being too forward, please stop me.**_"

"_**I do not understand. Forward in what way?**_"

"_**I have included these." **__And she held up a large bundle filled with dried dates.__** "Thamra. For the aqeeqah.**_" _She said carefully, indicating Djaq's belly then lowering her eyes._

"_**For the...But how did you know?**_" _Djaq asked, instantly on alert._

"_**You use your hands to cover your belly protectively very often.**_"

"_**Do I? I did not realize that I was so easy to read.**_" _Djaq responded, a little suspiciously._

"_**No, My Lady. Not easy. The Master has not noticed.**_"

"_**I see. Well, thank you very much for the thamra. I suppose that I will, indeed, have need of it in a few months' time.**_"

"_**My Lady? If I may speak more frankly?**_"

_Djaq was not so certain that she was comfortable with any more frankness, but she nodded._

"_**Am I correct in assuming that this is the first child for yourself and your husband?**_"

"_**You are and it is.**_" _Djaq answered slowly._

"_**I...**_" _For the first time the girl hesitated._ "_**It occurred to me that a woman who is expecting her first child so far from her home, so far from our women and customs, surrounded by those who are **__**strangers to our ways...may find herself in need of...guidance.**_" _She finished simply and lowered her eyes even further._

"_**Guidance? Guidance of what sort? Do you have experience with such matters?**_" _Djaq asked her in a curt voice._

"_**I do, My Lady. I have attended many of my kinswomen and been present at many births. But I do not mean to speak out of order. I only wished to offer my assistance. I would have spoken sooner, but you seemed intent on concealing your habal. I would have said nothing still, but my conscience bade me speak up before we parted for good.**_"

"_**No I...It is..." **__Djaq sighed. __**"You are very kind to offer me your help and wisdom. You are correct that I am in need of it. I...I do not know the ways of women—even our own women—in these matters. I will happily listen to all that you have to say. Thank you.**_" _Djaq replied humbly. She was genuinely touched and surprised by the offer. She had not given Aminah credit for being nearly so perceptive and she knew that the woman had taken a chance in coming to her in such a familiar manner._

And so, Aminah had spent her last few hours at the castle sharing her knowledge about birth rites, according to the teachings of Islam, with a very grateful and apt pupil. And once Will, Djaq, and Robin had shared a final goodbye with a dejected Rashid, the entire Saracen party had taken leave of Nottingham once and for all, with Gisbourne and the majority of his guards along for good measure. Will, at Robin's direction, had set out on horseback shortly thereafter in order to trail the party at a safe distance while the remainder of the gang, dressed as inconspicuously as possible, had piled the bags of money into laundry carts, pushed them down the hall, balanced their weight down several flights of stairs, out the front entrance and right on through the main gate.

All of the activity had left Djaq little opportunity to mourn over what would probably be the last she would ever see of any of her own people. She was glad to have been busy though, for she had no desire to grieve or mourn or feel any regret. England was to be her home now. Her _permanent_ home...with Will and their child. She did not regret that fact. Yes, she had always kept the idea alive in the back of her mind that she might one day return to her own land and her own people and customs. But that had been before, and now she had made her choice and she would waste no time in questioning herself. So she threw herself into the task of getting the money safely back to camp.

It really _had_ been rather easy. No one had even given them a second glance. There were so many people coming and going that a few peasants pushing carts went virtually unnoticed. Most of the Nobility were anxious to get themselves and their servants back to their estates, not to mention the extra staff—who were now no longer needed—that the Sheriff had hired to attend to the visitors and serve at the banquets. And all of the hustle and bustle had allowed the gang to make a simple matter of loading everything onto a waiting horse-drawn cart and nonchalantly trotting off in the direction of the forest...bags of money in tow.

That had been early yesterday morning, and Will had still not returned. Djaq knew that he wasn't expected back until tomorrow at the earliest, but she couldn't help wishing that he was back already. She sat up and rubbed her tired eyes, stifling a yawn as she did so, and swung her feet over the side of Will's bed. She silently scanned the interior of the camp in order to determine who—besides Will of course—was missing from their bed so that she would know who was on watch and what time it was.

Allan.

She could see through the darkness that his bed was empty, meaning that he was on watch and it was actually rather late. She must have managed to sleep longer than she'd originally thought. She stretched and heaved herself off the bed, searching through the darkness for her shoes. When she finally settled on them she put them on and quietly slipped outside the entrance.

"Couldn't sleep again?" Came Allan's sympathetic voice. He was seated against a tree trunk a few yards from the entrance, where he had a clear view of the camp and anyone approaching.

"I slept for a bit. More than _last_ night, anyway." She answered vaguely, offering no details about her nightmare or the reason for her insomnia.

But he knew.

Allan _always_ knew.

Sometimes she thought that he knew her better than she knew herself. Perhaps even better than he knew _him_self. Maybe it was because the two of them were so very much alike in so very many ways. Both restless and easily bored...often seeking change and new adventures. Both rather jaded by life and its harsh realities. Both practical...surviving on their wits when, as Allan would say, _sometimes your wits are all you've got_. Both were masters at self preservation and protection—employing humor or indignation, a smirk or an oath, a joke or an insult—anything to keep people from guessing what lay behind the mask they wore so well.

Both of them were incredibly skilled at reading people. Sizing them up and sorting out their strengths and weaknesses and using both to their advantage. And, in a sense, they were both gamblers. Both had taken a chance on joining Robin's motley crew, out of gratitude for being rescued and the chance to do something good, even though neither of them were looking for friends _or_ a family. But they'd unwittingly gotten both.

And she suspected, although neither of them had ever said so, that Allan, like herself, sometimes had to fight the instinct to flee from all of the camaraderie and intimacy and _suffocation_ of belonging to such a group...of _belonging at all_. People like them usually did better on their own. Belonging only to themselves. But they'd stayed. Both of them. And Djaq had always figured that part of the reason for that was each other. That when things got too familiar, or too close, or even just too _comfortable_, they could count on one another for relief...that a harmless prank or a tasteless jab or even a verbal sparring match was just enough to take the edge off.

But tonight she _needed_ something familiar.

"He'll be back soon." Allan offered simply.

"I know. I had not expected him back yet anyway." She replied, settling down next to him as he scooted over to make room for her.

"It's bound to take some time. He's gotta keep at a good distance since they're gonna be on the lookout for anybody trying to steal the money. Plus, there's no way they could make it straight through without stopping for the night. So Will would've made camp somewhere nearby and then picked up their trail again this morning. Then he probably watched `em board and then waited while they pushed off. He's probably on his way back by now."

"You have certainly given this a lot of thought, Allan A'Dale. Are you trying to convince _me_ or _yourself_?" She asked with a smirk which, despite the darkness, she knew he could see.

"Nobody." He answered seriously. "I'm just saying. There's no reason to worry."

"I am not worried." She stated.

"You just miss him." He observed.

Nod.

"Me too." He said as he slipped an arm around her shoulder which she gratefully leaned on.

"I know you do." She said in return. "You know, Allan. Just because things are...different with Will and me now...it does not mean that things between the _three_ of us must be different." She hoped she wasn't saying too much. She had wanted to say this to him for months now. She was painfully aware that the three of them, after all of the many months of closeness and friendship and fun, had not spent any _real_ time together—just them—since she and Will had spent the night together in the cave.

"Well, it kinda _does_, Djaq." He said in a more matter-of-fact tone than she'd ever heard him use.

"No." She shook her head against his shoulder where it was laying. "We are _still_ friends. The three of us have _always_ been friends. Remember Much used to say that there was something not quite natural about how close you, me and Will were?" She asked, trying to inject some humor into what was turning out to be a rather bleak conversation.

"I think _used to_ and _were_ are the key words there." He replied. However his voice betrayed no malice and no regret.

"That is only because things had been so strained between Will and myself for such a long time. It was the two of _us_—me and Will—who were not comfortable around one another. It had nothing to do with _you_. You were never the problem. And now that Will and I have worked out all of our..._misunderstandings_," she was careful not to reveal too many private details of her dealings with Will—a fact that was not lost on the man beside her, "we can all get back to normal. Can we not?"

"Look here." He began gently but firmly. "The thing is, what's normal now won't be the same as what was normal then. And that's okay, Djaq. I'm alright with that. I'm glad you and Will have finally worked it all out. And I guess what I'm saying is that I can accept that there's not gonna be the same place for me with either _one_ of you that there was before. It was bound to happen, I reckon. But we're still friends. You _know_ that. I'm sure we'll still hang out. Sometimes. Just...don't feel like you've gotta _make_ a place for me or something. `Cause you don't."

"But what if we _want_ to keep a place for you, Allan?" She asked quietly.

"I'm not going anywhere, love." He answered, giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze.

"Good. You had better not." She said, playfully jabbing him in the ribs.

"Good Lord. Must you always beat me, woman?" He demanded, in mock indignation, in the voice he always used when imitating a member of the Nobility.

The quiet tinkling of her laughter filled the space around them and made Allan smile. For it was the first real laughter to come from her lips in two days.

They sat together for a little while longer until the end of Allan's watch, at which time both of them went in to try to get some much-needed sleep.

**The Next Afternoon...**

The gang—minus Will who had yet to return—had all just come back from making their routine deliveries when, just as they were entering the camp, one of their alarms sounded. They made their way out to the road, all set for a confrontation, where all they found was a weary and frightened farmer on his way to visit his only daughter the next shire over. He had been barred access to the main roads by the Sheriff's guards as they returned from the port, and so had taken a chance on traveling through the forest, despite the risk of outlaw attacks.

Of course, everyone knew that Robin Hood's gang was not the _only_ band of outlaws who made their home in Sherwood Forest. There were other, much more dangerous, men whom travelers had to fear far more than those who would only take a tenth of their valuables. The man had turned out to have nothing of value to offer to the poor of Nottingham and was, himself, one of them. So Robin had instead given him a small purse of coins and warned him to be watchful.

As the gang were heading back to camp, they heard a bird call that could only have come from one of their own members. As Djaq looked up and caught sight of Will, a little ways' off in the distance, she felt her heart actually leap in her chest and she had to resist the urge to run ahead of the others and jump into his arms. She scolded herself. She had no wish to behave like a fool in front of everyone and it had only been _two days_ for goodness' sake. Surely she could manage to travel the several yards that remained between them without losing her dignity.

Will saw Djaq before she saw him, and so he sent out a bird call and watched in barely contained anticipation as her eyes lit up the moment they settled on him. He noticed that she lurched forward slightly, as if she were about to break into a run, but then caught herself and walked, albeit very quickly, along with the others in his direction. He was on foot, having sent his horse back to its owner with a pat on the rear, and he hurried toward them—but really _her—_and couldn't wait to scoop her up into his arms. He had missed her more than he'd known it was possible to miss another person and he didn't want to be parted from her any longer than was necessary.

Suddenly he heard her mutter to herself in that lilting voice, quite loudly in fact, "Oh hang it all!" And she tore off like a wild woman and threw herself, shamelessly, into his open arms. He picked her up and kissed her fiercely for a moment before placing her back on her feet where she would have toppled from the sheer _intensity_ of their kiss had he not steadied her immediately.

"I missed you _so_ very much." She declared as she buried her head against his chest and completely ignored the taunts and ribald jokes of the others at their expense. She refused to let these silly men embarrass her. She had spent far too much time apart from the beautiful man in front of her—even before his few days absence—to care what they now thought or said about her actions.

"I missed _you_. I love you, Djaq." He said breathlessly. Will could feel her trembling against him...or perhaps _he_ was the one trembling. All he had been able to think about for the past two days was how good it would feel to wrap his arms around her again. Obviously she had been thinking along the same lines because, as she stepped away from him, she grabbed his hands and tugged him in the direction of the forest, causing his eyes to widen and his face to redden and leaving the others quite unable to say a word for their shock at her obvious intention.

She led him to a secluded spot in the forest where they spent the majority of the afternoon making up for as much lost time as they possibly could. At least until Much called out to them, _very_ loudly and from _very_ far away, to let them know that supper was ready.

When they returned to the camp, hand in hand and smiling shyly, there were a few snorts and smirks, but no one dared to mention where they'd been for the past few hours or what they'd been up to. And when it was time for everyone to settle into bed for the night, no one seemed to think it at all out of the ordinary when Djaq climbed into her bunk, pulled Will in after her, and secured the curtain firmly in place. The two of them drifted off to an easy slumber, cradled in each other's arms, and awoke, unsurprisingly, in much the same way.

**The Next Week Or So**...

"Everything's just as it should be. You seem to be about five months along, give or take a few weeks."

Djaq nodded, concentrating on the sound of Matilda's voice and trying to ignore the discomfort of the examination that was being performed.

"I'm figuring sometime in very late autumn for the birth. Do you agree?" Matilda asked.

"That is what I calculated as well." Djaq answered. As many times as she had been to see Matilda and the other Wise Women over the past few months, she had never once expressed any desire to be examined herself. She had not even been very interested in learning about the care and treatment of _other_ pregnant women.

Matilda had offered several times to introduce her to some of what she and the others did as midwives. But Djaq had always been much more interested in the local herbs and ancient healing practices—and all of the other things that she had been unaware existed all around her—to be curious over such matters. But she had decided that today would be the day. She finally felt connected to her baby in a way that she hadn't before and she knew that it was time to start focusing her attention on what was going on inside of her.

So today, after they had compared uses for some common and a few not so common remedies, she had requested that the older woman look her over to be certain that everything was alright. Matilda did not, as Djaq had feared she might, scold her for waiting so long. In fact, she did not seem surprised nor did she react in any way at all. She merely ordered Djaq to undress, hop up on the table, lie back and relax. None of that had proved as easy as it sounded, however.

For one thing, as often as Djaq herself had cursed and scoffed and rolled her eyes when any of the outlaws or other men she'd treated had expressed any concern over undressing, even partially, in her presence, _she_ now discovered the embarrassment of such a practice. Of course it was inevitable. She knew that. But it was _not_ something she was accustomed to and it was not pleasant in the least. It did not even matter to her that Matilda was a woman or that no one else was around. Djaq was a very private person and she now felt very exposed.

And, although it sounded easy enough, 'hopping up on the table' had proved slightly more difficult than she had anticipated as well. She had finally needed the aid of a chair to climb up on in order to achieve the desired result. Apparently, her belly was far more cumbersome than she had even realized.

And then, of course, the 'relaxing' part was the hardest of all. There she lay, _completely_ exposed from just below her breasts right down to her toes, with Matilda poking and prodding her belly and _other_ places that Djaq didn't even want to _think_ about—and actually having to _pry_ her legs apart a time or two—and all the while she was supposed to be _relaxed_? Not likely.

"Good Lord, Missy! For all your running around like a wild animal with that rowdy band of men, you've got to be one of the most oddly modest women I've ever laid my eyes upon. If I hadn't heard you sass and swear with my very own ears or seen you aim your sword or bow at men three times your size like they were as harmless as hares, I'd be convinced you'd just wandered out of a convent somewhere." Matilda chuckled heartily.

Djaq merely grunted irritably.

"Go on and get dressed now. You know I've heard it said that physicians make the worst patients in the world, and now I believe it." Matilda tutted as she washed and dried her hands.

"My father used to say the same." Djaq said, climbing down and shimmying back into her braies and trousers. "I am sorry. I do not mean to be difficult. I am not accustomed to—"

"No no. Don't worry about it. Everybody deals with things in their own way and their own time. Don't mind my musings. Now climb back up on the table and put your hands on your belly. I want to show you something."

Djaq complied, lying back once again, wondering what insane torture was next. Although, thankfully, _this_ time she was fully clothed.

"No need to lie down, we're done with that part. Sit up, girl. That's it. Now, do you feel that?" Matilda asked as she guided Djaq's hands up over her belly to right above her navel, pressing lightly.

Nod.

"That's your baby's head."

"But is that not wrong? Should it not be facing the other way?"

"Not necessarily. There's plenty of time for that. Have you felt it moving around in there at all?"

"A little bit. It feels like butterfly wings." Djaq answered as she took in the feeling of her baby right beneath her own hands and skin, almost close enough to really touch.

"Well it's gonna start moving even more in the coming weeks and it'll likely flip itself completely upside down and back again quite a few times before it puts its head down for good. Nothing to worry about. It's gotta be hard getting comfortable in there and babies change positions a lot in order to find a spot they like. You'll likely start to feel more than just butterfly wings pretty soon. One of these days your baby's gonna give you a good swift kick. That's just its way of making sure you don't forget it's in there."

"Do you think that Will will be able to feel him move?"

"If he hasn't yet, then he soon will."

"That is good."

"The good news for _you_ is that your womb has moved up higher in your belly now and so you'll be needing to relieve yourself far less over the next few weeks. But don't get too used to it. You'll be right back to having to go like a rain cloud in no time."

Djaq laughed, remembering Allan's habit of pretending he thought he heard rain every time she got up in the middle of the night to go. "I will take any relief I can get. No matter how temporary."

"For that matter, you'll probably find you have a bit more energy now than you've had over the past couple months. That's temporary too. It's just due to the shift in your womb's location and the fact that the baby's not putting as much pressure in uncomfortable places. So _do not_ over do it just because you feel like your old self. You're _not_ your old self. Got it?"

"Yes. I understand and I will be careful." Djaq answered solemnly.

"Good. And don't let those men run you all around the forest either. They've got to understand that things have _changed_ now, just as everything does, and you're no longer just one of Robin's _men_."

"I do not think that I will have to worry about that at all. I think they would be perfectly content to lock me inside the camp until the child is born." She grumbled. "Maybe after too."

"Well, now, they needn't go that far. You're still more than capable of doing most things any normal woman could do. Although, I don't how much of what _you_ normally do is something a _normal_ woman might." Matilda chuckled. "No fighting, obviously. And no running through the woods where you could trip over a hundred tree roots. No riding horses—"

"But—"

"Uh-uh. Now I'm sure you're a perfectly fine rider, but it only takes the smallest thing to spook even the best horse and you can't afford to be thrown off or worse. Besides, walking will be good for you. You need the exercise so you should try to walk as much as possible."

"Is that all?" She grumbled.

"That's all. For now. And none of that pouting. You'll thank me when your baby's born big and strong."

"You are right. Thank you. I will be extra careful."

"Like I said, now, there's no need to be _too_ careful. There's plenty you can still do. Just be sensible. And don't let Robin and the others bully you."

"They won't." She said confidently, climbing back down from the table. "I wonder if Will has finished his deliveries yet." The two of them had walked to Locksley together. Will had said he would make the drop offs while Djaq was at Matilda's and then meet her there when he had finished, but it had been quite a while.

"He's been sitting out front for a good while now. I heard him whittling away on something, but I figured he'd have the good sense to knock if he was ready to go." Matilda said with a shrug. "Before you go, is there anything you want to ask me? It's normal to have a few questions your first time around, Djaq. There's nothing to be shy or embarrassed about."

"No. Nothing else just now. And I am not shy, really. I am just trying to get used to all of these changes. Also, I would like to start having you teach me more about women's matters. If that is alright."

"Sure. As a matter of fact, I'll be making my rounds in two days' time and you're welcome to join me."

"Yes, I would like that."

"I go around Locksley, as I've told you before, and a few nearby villages and I visit all the houses where the women are expecting or have recently given birth. It'll take up most of the day and part of the evening, but you don't have to stay through all of it if you don't want to be out after dark. Because of the guards and such, that is. If somebody's delivering, it'll be even longer...days maybe. But we'll cross that bridge when we come to it. Come around in the morning on Thursday and we'll get an early start. Alright?"

"Alright. And thank you. For everything." She said as she opened the front door carefully. Sure enough, there was Will, just sitting patiently and whittling away on a small piece of scrap wood.

"Will, what are you doing out here?" She asked as he hastily stood and dusted himself off, tossing the piece of wood aside and putting his knife away.

"I'm waiting for _you_." He said, giving her a curious look. What on earth did she _think_ he was doing out there? "I told you I'd come for you when I finished."

"But why did you not tell me that you were ready to go? Matilda says that you have been out here for a good while."

"I didn't want to rush you. Are you done now? Because I'll wait. I don't mind. Really." He knew how much it meant to her to have this time with Matilda. She enjoyed learning all of those new things so much that he would have happily waited out there all day for her without complaint.

"No no. I am finished. I must have lost track of the time. I'm sorry. How long have you been waiting?" He was always so considerate. She sometimes had to remind herself to be extra conscious of what she was doing, because she didn't think that he'd say so even if he _did_ mind something. He wanted to make her happy and he wasn't above sacrificing his own convenience in order to see to it that she was.

"Not too long. After I made the drop offs, I came to see if you were done, but the windows were all closed up so I went over and helped old Henry replace a few slats in his fence. Then I came back and I waited."

"You should have knocked, though. I did not even know that you were here."

"It's alright. I didn't mind waiting for you. Ready?" He asked, taking her hand in his and leading her towards the forest.

"The house was all locked up because Matilda was examining the baby." She said carefully as they walked through Sherwood Forest in no great hurry.

"Why? What happened?" He stopped walking and turned her around to face him.

"_Nothing_ happened. Calm down. Everything is fine. I just asked her to check on everything. That's all." She realized that her cautious tone must have frightened him. Though she and Will had discussed the child many times now and he knew of her fears and doubts, talking over the specifics of the pregnancy with Matilda suddenly made it all more real for her and her tone must have reflected that.

"Oh." He breathed out, relieved. "And what'd she say?"

"I told you. She said that everything is just as it should be. Here, feel." She said taking the hand she'd been holding and placing it just above her navel. "She said that the baby's head is right here. She also said that he will start to move around more soon and then you will be able to feel it."

"Oh." He was completely absorbed in the idea that his child was so close that he could almost touch him or her. It really didn't seem fair that a father had to wait `til it was born to touch his own child. "I hope it's _very_ soon."

And before Djaq had time to wonder what he was doing, Will had knelt down in front of her and was planting light kisses to her belly. Even through the fabric of her shirt, his kisses felt warm and soothing.

"Hello little baby. I'm your father and I love you very much." He said softly to her stomach, giving it more kisses.

She closed her eyes and felt him rest his cheek against her belly. She slowly trailed her fingers through his hair, feeling an unbelievable sense of peace settle over her. When she opened her eyes, she found him looking up at her with a strange and unreadable expression on his face.

"What?" She asked, smiling down at him.

"You're so beautiful." He said in a ragged voice, raw with sudden emotion. Sometimes he was still dumbstruck by how lovely she was.

Djaq was startled by his words and the deep look of passion dancing just behind his eyes. She swallowed and tried to keep her knees from buckling beneath her, as sometimes threatened to happen when she caught him looking at her that way.

"So are _you_." She said, just above a whisper.

"Djaq." He laughed, shattering the intensity of the moment.

"What is so funny? It's true. You are."

"I'm a man." He said seriously.

"Yes, I have noticed that, Will." She replied sarcastically.

"Men are _not_ beautiful." He replied firmly.

"Well then you must be the exception, my love."

"No. I'm _handsome_." He insisted.

"My. _Somebody_ certainly thinks an awful lot of himself." She said with a smirk.

"You _know_ what I mean." He said in a pleading voice, looking up into her face. "Men can't be beautiful or pretty or whatever. That's for women. Men are good looking or handsome. That's it. You know what I'm trying to say." As happy as he was that she thought he was beaut—no, he couldn't even say it in his head—the very word, when used to describe him, made him uncomfortable.

"Yes I do, but it does not change the fact that you are absolutely _beautiful_." She sighed exaggeratedly. "There is nothing that you can do about it. I am afraid that you will simply have to learn to live with it. I have long since thought you to be the most beautiful person alive and there is simply no changing that fact."

He pretended to think it over for a moment. "Fine. But if you ever say it in front of the others, you'll be sorry." He threatened, trying _very_ hard to look menacing. It wasn't easy either, seeing as he was pretty certain she knew that he would always give in to her no matter what.

"Oh? What will you do to me?" She dared, smiling down at him.

"I don't know. Something terrible, though." He warned.

"Like what?" She taunted.

"I'll have Much sing you to sleep every night for a month. I swear I will." He raised his eyebrows at her in an attempt to convey his seriousness.

It didn't work.

"Ah but then you will have to endure the torture as well." She countered sensibly.

"Hm. I hadn't thought of that. Let's see." And he got up from his knees, brought himself up to his full height and snaked his arms around her waist. "Let me think. I could..._tickle you_!"

And he did, making her squeal, laugh uncontrollably and _beg_ for mercy.

If there was one thing Djaq _despised_, it was being tickled. She always had. It was very hard to stay in control when one was so very _ticklish_. So she tried to avoid such torture at all costs. A fact of which Will was quite well aware. So when he finally stopped and she'd managed to stop laughing and wipe the tears away, she said in a tone that she hoped made clear her displeasure, "You are a very cruel man, Will Scarlett!"

"_Am_ I?" He asked innocently.

"You are _indeed_! People will compose songs and poems about you for years to come." She stomped her foot.

"Oh? That's good then, right?"

"No. Not good at _all_. They will be poems warning poor unsuspecting maidens about the misfortunes of marrying _evil_ men who tickle their wives incessantly even though they know—they _know—_that she hates being tickled!"

"_Really_?" He asked in an amused tone.

"Yes _really_!" She mocked. "Shame on you."

"You don't think you might be exaggerating just the littlest bit?"

"Well, perhaps just a bit." She conceded, leaning against him. "I still say that you are beautiful, though. However," she amended quickly when he raised his hands to threaten her with more of the dreaded tickling, "I will _not_ refer to you as such in front of anyone else. I promise."

"Good then. I think I can live with that. If _you_ can live with having such a cruel and evil husband." He pulled her even closer and kissed her softly and gently on the lips.

She opened her mouth and returned his kiss with more fervor, winding her arms around his neck and pressing herself against him as much as possible. "I suppose that you are not so _very_ cruel after all." She admitted, catching her breath, after he had released her. She reached for his hand and they continued the walk back to camp.

"I have been thinking about what we discussed." She said after a few moments of comfortable silence. "About a name should our child be a girl."

"Did you think of one?" He asked, slowing his pace so she wouldn't have to walk so fast to keep up.

"I have thought of two but I would like for you to pick. I like both and I cannot decide. I wanted to choose a name that was similar to that of your mother, Jane. But I wanted to choose something in Arabic, like you suggested."

"Djaq, you don't have to do that. We already said that we would call a boy Daniel. So you should pick something _you_ like for a girl. You said that your people always choose names with special meanings, so you should pick one that means something you like."

She really was the sweetest woman he had ever met. Although, he was pretty sure she would inflict great bodily harm on him if he ever told her so. 'Sweet' was not a description she liked hearing about herself. In fact, calling her _sweet_ or _cute_ was sometimes the only way any of them, particularly Allan, could get a rise out of her.

"These names _do_ have special meanings. And I want our child to carry the name of your father or mother. Or at least something close to it. First, I was thinking of _Janaan_."

"Janan."" He tried it out. It felt a little clumsy on his tongue.

"_Janaan_." She corrected. "It sounds like _ah_. _Jah-nahn._"

"Jah-nahn." He tried again. "Jahnahn. _Janaan_. Okay, what does it mean?" He asked her.

"It means the heart or the soul of someone." She answered.

"That's nice. It's pretty. But what's the other one? You said you had two."

"The other is _Jannah_. It means paradise."

"_Jah_-nah?"

"Mm-hm."

"It's nice too." He said. "Which do you like best?"

"I like both. But _Jannah_ sounds closer to Jane. Do you not think so?" She said.

"Hm. Yeah. I guess it does. A little. But...I kinda like the meaning of the first one. Heart. That's much prettier, I think." He liked the idea of his daughter having a name that meant something so beautiful. _Heart_.

"So you pick Janaan then?" She asked, just to be certain.

"If that's okay with you."

"Of course." She said with a smile.

"Janaan for a girl then?"

"And Daniel for a boy." She agreed.

"Thank you, Djaq." He said quietly after a moment.

"What for?" She asked, puzzled.

He paused before responding in order to get his emotions in check. "For giving me a family." He finally answered quietly.

"You have done the same for me. So I should thank you as well." She was always so amazed at the way he spoke as if she were doing something wonderful and generous by loving him. When anyone with _eyes_ could see what _his_ love meant to _her_.

"Yeah but it's not the same." He said, shaking his head.

"It is _exactly_ the same. _Our_ family will not replace those we have both lost. But it _will_ carry on what they started. And what _you_ and _I_ have begun together will continue for generations to come. That means just as much to me as it does to you."

"I like the sound of that. That we've started something that will go on long after we're gone." He said thoughtfully. He put an arm around her as they walked together.

"So do I." She said, leaning into him. "It is comforting to think of that when this world is so uncertain." She added.

"It's nice to know that not everything is uncertain. Isn't it?"

"Yes. It is indeed, my love." She answered.

**A Few Weeks Later...**

Will, Djaq and Allan had been on deliveries together since the morning. They had visited the villages of Nettlestone and Clun and then Allan had gone off to catch up with a few of the kitchen girls at the castle, as usual, and Will and Djaq had found a quiet spot for lunch. The outlaws didn't ordinarily _eat_ lunch, as a rule. They kept very little of the food they managed to hunt, preferring instead to pass it on to the poor, and they _bought_ even less, preferring to _distribute_ their money rather than spend it on themselves. So they sometimes did not even have enough food to make up _two_ meals per day, let alone three. They were hardly alone in that predicament, though and so could not really complain when it happened.

But usually, they were able to scrape together enough for each of them to have something for breakfast and supper at least. And that was enough for them. But, with Djaq expecting, Much always managed to come up with something for her to eat in the middle of the day. None of them knew quite how he managed it other than being very frugal and running an incredibly tight kitchen. So Will and Djaq had decided to stop for a while and have a rest and something to eat.

They were sitting atop a small hill overlooking Nottingham proper. It was market day and they were in a perfect position to see everything going on below, but still remain out of sight. Much had packed them a half a loaf of bread and a few small pieces of cold chicken, and Djaq had brought with her a few dates. Apparently these _dates_ were quite commonly enjoyed in her homeland and she had tried several times, since acquiring them, to get Will to try one. However he thought that they were _the_ most unappetizing things he'd ever laid eyes on and had, so far, been able to resist her attempts to get him to eat one.

"This reminds me of a game that we used to play." Djaq said somewhat wistfully.

"Oh?" He asked cautiously.

He had grown accustomed, over the past few weeks, to her making such random statements about her past—usually involving her brother—when they were alone together, and then abruptly dropping the subject. He never pushed her and he understood that there were some things she just couldn't discuss. He really did. And sometimes things just slipped out before she realized where her thoughts were headed. It made sense. They had gotten so much closer over the past few weeks and she was opening up to him more and more. Sometimes she just got so comfortable with him that she spoke without thinking. Part of him was glad she was so at ease with him, even though it sometimes caused her these sudden moments of regret.

He had also discovered something about her that he had never realized before. Whenever she referred to herself as a child, she always said _we_ or _us_...never _I_ or _me_. Every single time. He didn't even know if she realized it. He knew it was because she and her brother, being twins, had been inseparable growing up and that her memories and experiences must be so intermingled with his...with the real Djaq's—no, not the _real_ Djaq..._Djaq_ was the real Djaq...he supposed her brother was the _original_ Djaq then—that she couldn't separate them if she'd wanted to.

Will had no way of possibly understanding her feelings in the matter because, as much as he'd loved and cherished his parents and still loved his brother and even the gang, he'd never had a relationship as close as that of Djaq and...well..._Djaq_. The closest he could come to understanding was to think about how much _his_ Djaq had come to mean to _him_ since they'd been together. But when he tried to imagine being that close with someone since birth—sharing every experience, every secret, every memory—and then just _losing_ them, he couldn't stand even the _imaginary_ pain of it.

And so he fully expected her to change the subject she'd started. But she surprised him by continuing in a lighter tone than he had ever heard her use when she referred to the _we_ she used to be a part of.

"When we were younger, my brother and I used to find a shady place just above the market where we could see everybody. We would sit out of the way and we would eat _thamra_ and _khubz_—dates and bread—and we would watch."

"Watch what?" He asked her, enchanted by the sparkle in her eyes.

"People." She said simply, shrugging.

"Oh." Pause "Why?"

"I told you. It was a game. One of us would study the people passing or bargaining or whatever they happened to be doing, and then we would make up a story about them." She shrugged as if this, once again, explained it all.

"Oh." Another pause. "Why?"

"I don't know. It was fun." She said turning completely around to face him. "And before you ask me _why_, Will Scarlett, it just _was_. It was a way to pass time and we enjoyed it."

"You're good at telling stories." She really was. Many was the night when she'd have them all rolling on the floor laughing or clutching their blankets or biting their nails in fear or just hanging on the edge of their seat in anticipation when she told them one of her stories.

"It was not really like telling stories." She explained patiently. "It was more like we would make up a _life_ for them. For the people we saw. We would make up a name and then take turns saying what we thought they might be doing."

"Oh." Um, Okay. That was just..._strange_.

"You think that it is strange." She said.

Okay now _that_ was strange. "No." He shook his head rapidly. _Well, yeah...kind of._

"Never mind." And she tried to dismiss the subject with a wave of her hand.

"It's just...well, it doesn't _sound_ like much of a game. That's all. Just sitting and watching and talking." It wasn't like any game Will had _ever_ played...or ever wanted to.

"I suppose it might not sound like fun to you. But my brother and I were..._different_ from other children." She replied in an odd tone of voice.

"How so?"

"Just different, that's all." She said with finality.

Silence.

"So how do we play?" He asked.

"You want to play?" She questioned, clearly surprised that he would be interested.

"I'll try." She still didn't seem to understand that he was interested in _everything_ that made her happy.

"Well, one of us must start. Whoever goes first must look out over the crowd and pick someone. Not just anyone, though. It must be someone interesting. I will go first since you have never played." And she scanned the crowd below looking for an interesting person.

"How to you decide who's _interesting_?" He asked, wondering what he'd gotten himself into. He was in no way capable of having any sort of educated or intellectual conversation with her. There was no point in even trying. And if this was _that_ kind of game, he was in trouble.

"You just...try to find someone who is doing something different than the other people. So I pick...um...I think... _him_!" And she pointed to a man who happened to be standing against the side of a stall. That was it. Just standing.

"What's so interesting about _him_? He's just standing there." He wrinkled his nose in confusion.

"Yes, exactly. He is not buying or selling. Nor does he seem to be in any great hurry. He is just standing. So he is different than the others. I think that he will be a good one to start with. Now, I will make up something about him and then you will add to it. Here we go—"

"What do you mean _add to it_?" He interrupted. He was starting to panic. He was _not_ going be very good at this, he could tell. So, naturally, he said, "I don't think I'm going to be very good at this, Djaq." But at her fleeting look of disappointment he amended quickly, "But I'll try."

"No. It is fine. We do not have to play. You will probably find it silly, anyway. We can just sit here and enjoy the quiet." And she popped another of the odd looking _dates_ into her mouth, making Will cringe.

"No, I want to. Go ahead. You start."

"Okay!" She said, clapping her hands together. She was clearly much more excited about the prospect of playing this than he was. "His name is George and he is a sheep farmer." She announced.

"How do you know that?" Again, confusion.

"That is not _really_ his name, Will." She said in a tone that said very plainly that she was growing impatient with his _Englishness_, as she sometimes called whatever differences they happened to have at any given time. Whether they had anything to do with being _English_ or not. "I told you, we are just _pretending_. So I made up a name for him and something about him. Now you add something else."

"Um. How do I know what to make up?"

"Make up anything."

"He's...um...he..._lost his sheep_?" He asked rather than said.

"Oh that is good!" She was practically bouncing now, she was so excited. "Yes, he lost his very _best_ sheep and now he is waiting for a man to bring it back to him." She added her part.

"What man? And if he lost it, why is he waiting for a man to bring it back?" _And_ he was back to comfortable confusion.

"That is for you to make up. I added _my_ part. I said that he is waiting for the man. Now _you_ make something." She ordered, but sweetly.

"Djaq." He groaned. He knew that he was about to embarrass himself rather completely, and he was relieved that she was the only one around. Of course, there was a time when he would rather have died a painful death six times over than be embarrassed in front of her. But now things were different. "Alright. Some man took George's best sheep and told him he wouldn't give it back until he paid him a steep ransom. So that's why George is waiting for him."

"Yes. But the ransom that he seeks is not money." She added, eyes wide with excitement and glittering like jewels now. "No. The man, who's name will be...what is a good English name?"

"Nope. It's your turn. You make it up." She looked utterly and adorably shocked at his refusal. If Will had not already been completely, madly, head-over-heels in love with her, that look would have done it for sure.

"Cheeky!" She accused. "Fine, his name is William. _Ha_! And he does _not_ ask for money in exchange for the sheep. You see, William is in love with George's only daughter and George will not be parted from her. Not for any price. Or so he _says_. William has asked for her hand many times, but George stubbornly refuses. He is old and alone and he wishes to keep his daughter...let us call her Ann...he wishes to keep Ann at home with him for the remainder of his life. So William resorted to thievery in order to have her as his bride."

"Does Ann love him in return?" Will was now completely swept up in the story. Poor William, poor Ann. Even poor _George_. He wanted to know what would happen next and he nearly forgot that they were making it up as they went along.

"_You_ tell _me_." She challenged.

"Oh. Right." He thought for a second, chewing his lip as he did so. "She _does_! In _fact_, this whole scheme was her idea."

Silence.

He waited nervously.

"_Really_?" She finally asked with more than a hint of awe.

"Yep. She knew how much her father loved his prized sheep and she told George that holding the sheep hostage was the only way her father would ever allow the marriage." He told her, proudly now.

"Oh that is good! Yes! Yes and it worked. They were married yesterday afternoon and now George has demanded the return of his pig—"

"Sheep." He corrected.

"Oh. Right. His _sheep_. He agreed to the marriage and now he just wants his best sheep back. That is why he is just standing around in the marketplace, doing nothing but waiting. _Finis_. The end. You are very good at this game." She clapped her hands, smiling at him.

Will positively beamed under her praise as her eyes danced with a kind of enjoyment he rarely saw in them. Something she'd probably buried and given up on long ago. It warmed his heart to see her so full of life and such unbridled..._giddiness_—which was not a word he'd ever thought would be accurately used to describe the woman he loved.

"That was fun." And he meant it. It _had_ been fun. And seeing her so happy was the very best part.

"See, and you did not think that you would like it." She scolded.

"True. But I was wrong." He admitted.

"Would you like to try a date now?" She asked him, holding one out to him.

"Um, okay. I guess." He tried not to look at the dreaded thing as he gingerly put it between his teeth and took a very small bite. "Mm. Sweet." He said, putting the rest of the date into his mouth and chewing.

Djaq settled back against him, letting her head rest against his chest and his arms envelop her completely. She tried to hide her smirk as she casually held out another date to him...which he sheepishly accepted.


	23. Trapped

**A/N:** Thank you to rohwyn**, **bkwrm, noz4a2, Wenrom31, and MeganMash for their reviews and thoughts on the previous chapter.

**Trapped**

The gang had just walked into the camp where they found Robin and Marian anxiously awaiting their arrival. So everyone quickly put away their belongings and sat down to face the pair, ready to find out what was in the works, and exchanging curious glances as they did so.

"Alright, Marian, you have our attention. What is this big announcement? Do you have some news from the castle?" Robin asked, his voice tinged with anticipation and a touch of irritation. It had been several weeks since they had successfully completed their mission with Rashid and he had been anxious for another adventure ever since. "And was it really necessary to wait for _everyone's_ presence before telling me?"

"Actually, it was. And you'll see why." She turned away from Robin and faced the rest of the gang. "There's about to be an addition to your little group." She declared excitedly.

"I'm not being funny, but you're a bit late." Allan said, reaching over and gently patting Djaq's swollen belly. "Unless you and Robin have been—"

"No! Oh _no_! That's not what I meant at _all_!" She reddened and became flustered, sending all of the outlaws—with the exception of a very shocked and highly offended Much—into a _fit_ of hysterical laughter at her discomfort. "Hmph! I suppose that I shall have to get used to such teasing once I am an official member of the gang." And she straightened her back and held her head high, determined to show them that she could handle a bit of harmless ribbing as well as anyone.

"An official member of—? Marian what on earth are you getting at?" Robin asked from behind her.

"As you know, now that King Richard is in the middle of peace talks and may be returning soon, my father will be traveling up north in order to see to it that some of the more influential members of the nobility are committed to the King. And that they're ready and willing to rise up in support of him should there be any trouble upon his return." She said, continuing to speak mainly to the others, who nodded, and deliberately keeping her back to Robin. "Well, my father has made up a cover story for the Sheriff and informed him that he will instead be visiting an old friend who is on his deathbed and that _I_ will be accompanying him."

"But you will _not_ be accompanying him?" Djaq, sensing where this was headed, asked her.

"No. That's right. I will not. I will be here, with all of you, until my father returns." And she could no longer contain her excitement as a huge grin spread across her face. "That is, if none of you have any objections." She added hastily.

"Why are you asking _them_? I'm the leader, Marian. Shouldn't you be asking _me_?" An insulted Robin demanded.

"Well I know that _you'll_ accept me, Robin. You've been trying to entice me into joining you in the forest ever since you became an outlaw. But I don't want to be accepted solely based on that. I will only come to live among you if _every_ man agrees. Oh—and woman. I don't expect any special treatment and you all _know_ that I'm perfectly capable of holding my own in a fight. So...what do you say?"

"But what about Gisbourne and the Sheriff?" Allan asked. "If they think you're off with your father, then you can't be seen with us. And you're pretty easy to recognize."

"Allan's right Marian. It would be too great a risk to you _and_ your father." Robin said carefully.

"I'm surprised Gisbourne agreed to let you go." Will added.

"Well, in truth, he was not best pleased at the prospect of me being away for so long, but the Sheriff seemed _more_ than happy to have my father and me out of his way for a while, and so Guy could not openly object."

"What if you were spotted, Marian?" Robin asked, running a hand through his hair as he weighed the idea in his mind.

"I have considered that already and I thought that I could dress as the Nightwatchman when we go on missions or the like, and I could simply wear a cloak to cover my face when we go into the villages to make deliveries." She bit her lip and she waited. She hadn't really considered that they might refuse. "It would be helpful to have an extra member, wouldn't it? Someone to lighten the work load a little?" She fidgeted, starting to feel rather embarrassed.

"Of course you're welcome. We're happy to have you." Will was the first to say after discreetly catching their leader's eye and seeing him nod his approval.

The others all followed suit with various words of welcome and acceptance.

"So how long will you be with us?" Djaq ventured to ask.

Djaq actually had no idea how Marian had ever managed to convince her father that taking up residence in the middle of the forest with known outlaws was somehow more appropriate than remaining either at home or in the castle, _or_ traveling with him on his mission. Although, Djaq suspected that Sir Edward had long since given up trying to control his unorthodox and dissentient daughter, and had settled for being satisfied with at least knowing where and with whom she spent the bulk of her time.

"Anywhere from a few weeks to much longer. I'll come as soon as my father is ready to leave and I'll stay until he completes his task." Marian beamed.

The men then joked about how a fine lady was going to have difficulty adjusting to a life that lacked even the basic amenities that the average peasant enjoyed. They were all certain that Marian wouldn't last through the first night. Robin, in fact, made a rather big show of lecturing Marian, in the presence of the entire gang, on what she could and _should not_ expect as a member of their group.

He took great pleasure in telling her, in no uncertain terms and with an enormous smirk on his face, that there would be no one there to bring her her meals or style her hair or fetch her bath water. That she would be sharing a hard and lumpy bedroll with innumerable forest insects and that meals consisted of whatever they could scrounge up after their distributions to the poor. That everyone had chores around camp and a role to play in their daily activities and that _she_ would be no exception.

Marian proudly declared that she knew full well what to expect and was _absolutely_ prepared for anything. The men still laughed, though, and secretly laid bets on how long it would be before she was complaining about the lack of comfort, clean clothes, and good food—the latter suggestion wounding Much's pride to such an extent that he sulked angrily in a corner for two hours before allowing himself to be coaxed out to prepare supper.

But Djaq wasn't worried about Marian being able to adjust to the hardships of a life in the forest, or even about her finding it difficult spending every day and night surrounded by scruffy and rather uncouth men—_and_ their habits. Djaq had spent more than enough time with the woman to recognize that she was tough, determined, and always ready to meet a challenge head on.

No. Djaq was more worried about what was going to happen when Marian got over her initial excitement and figured out that their lives were probably nothing like that which she had built up in her head. Sure there was danger—which they tried to avoid at all costs—and yes, there was sometimes fun and excitement. But what Djaq had tried to point out to Marian weeks earlier was absolutely true. Their lives were _not_ one long adventure and much of their time was spent doing the sorts of monotonous activities with which she felt certain Marian would have very little patience.

She had seen that hungry look in Marian's eyes—the one that spoke of all that she longed for, how trapped she felt in her current life, not to mention the freedom, exhilaration, and wild abandon she so desperately craved—far too many times to believe that Marian would ever be satisfied with a few village deliveries and the occasional travelers on the road. But Djaq joined the others in welcoming her and just hoped that Robin knew what he was getting himself into.

* * *

"It looks as if the others are not back yet after all." Djaq observed off-handedly as she and Will walked into the camp together two weeks later. They had been making deliveries and then Djaq had stopped in to check on the progress of an expectant mother in Locksley. They had taken their time in getting back, as Djaq was unable to walk very quickly these days, and she had expected the others to already be at the camp when they arrived.

"See? I _told_ you. Everything takes three times as long with Marian." Will groused, sitting down to begin oiling his axes.

Djaq merely shook her head at his comment as she sat down at her work station and began bundling some herbs she'd left out to dry. There was really nothing she could say. After all, he was right. And he was certainly not the first member of their gang to mutter such sentiments over the past week.

That's how long it had been since Marian had begun living with them at the camp. A week. One—_very long_—week. Well, _living_ with them was not exactly an accurate assessment—although that's how Marian herself referred to the arrangement—it was more that she was _staying_ with them. _Temporarily_. That's what they were all hoping, anyway.

But, once again, Djaq had her own theories.

She couldn't escape the thought that this was some sort of trial run for Marian. That Marian had, perhaps, set this whole thing up as a test of sorts for her and Robin in order to see how well such an arrangement would work out long-term. It certainly wasn't the first time, since Marian discovered that Djaq was with-child, that Djaq had gotten the distinct impression that Marian was moving closer and closer to walking away from everything she knew and moving out to the forest with Robin permanently.

The problem was that Djaq was certain things were not turning out as Marian—or the rest of them—had planned. The first day had gone very smoothly. They had made a new schedule for the chores and the night watch that included their new member and they had shown her where everything was kept and how everything worked. She had been offered Will's bed, seeing as no one now slept in it, which she gratefully accepted. She had helped Robin and John sort money, Will and Allan sharpen blades, Djaq roll up and put away some new bandages, and Much prepare and clean up after supper, all before they settled down to enjoy a quiet evening together before turning in. And so had ended Marian's first day as an outlaw in Sherwood Forest.

And so had ended the _gang's_ last day of sanity.

It turned out that Robin needn't have bothered lecturing Marian on doing her share. What he _should_ have explained to her was that they already had a system for doing just about everything and that she, as the newest 'member' would do well to simply follow everyone else's lead. It seemed simple enough. Of course, it wasn't that the outlaws were so set in their ways that they refused to listen to reason. Nor was it that they did not value Marian's ideas. It was simply that she seemed to come up with a better way for them to do absolutely _everything_. Without fail. _Every_thing_!_

She decided that the order in which they made their deliveries to the villages wasn't an efficient enough use of their time. Never mind the fact that they tried—they really _tried_—to explain to her that their current system was the result of quite a lot of trial and error and it was what seemed to work best for the people who depended on them. Plus, she didn't think they did nearly enough to get the word out about when and where they made their drop-offs, seeming to forget the fact that they were all wanted—by the _Sheriff _for goodness sake—and had to be extremely careful about their routines and contacts.

Then, of course, she insisted on demanding twenty-five percent out of travelers rather than the gang's standard ten...regardless of how often Robin reminded her that ten percent was a small enough amount that it would not break those travelers who were themselves struggling and would also not be enough to induce most Nobles to put up much of a fight to keep it—they would usually rather just pay the 'toll' and go on their way without incident and with rest of their valuables in tact. And yet it was large enough that it really added up to quite a lot at the end of the month. But she insisted on doing it anyway. Over and over again.

They had tried to be patient with her, they _really_ had. None of them had lost their temper, for example, when she had, after being warned several times, ignored the plan and run headlong into a group of guards—by _herself_—with her weapon drawn. They had spotted the guards carrying a small chest containing coins collected from the villagers while in the middle of a routine drop-off and, rather than following Robin's orders and waiting for the diversion Will and Much were working on, Marian had seen an opening and simply acted without waiting or even _thinking_.

_That_ particular stunt had plunged them all right into the middle of a very nasty fight with some _very_ determined guards and had left Allan with a black eye and John with two bruised ribs and a grazed shoulder. Djaq had, naturally, stayed out of the fray on that one—which had made it very difficult for her to stay hidden and watch as her friends needed her. But, once they had gotten away with the chest, Marian had actually seemed to feel that they had done a good day's work and she could not quite understand why no one felt much like talking on their _**run!**_ back to camp..._or_ during supper..._or_ after.

Even Robin was about ready to scream, Djaq could tell. He loved the idea of having Marian with him all the time, but he was at a loss as to just how to go about reining her in short of tying her up at the camp while they went about their business. Much seemed to be the only one who continued to caution patience and understanding where Marian was concerned, saying that she was an extremely good-hearted and clever woman—which none of them doubted—and suggesting that maybe they really _should_ try implementing some of her ideas. That is until _someone_ decided that Much's rabbit kabobs needed just a _little_ something extra to spice them up and so took it upon herself to flavor them with one of Djaq's more pungent spices. After that it was unanimous.

Something had to be done.

But no one knew quite what. The woman simply refused to take any hints. And none of them, save for Robin, felt comfortable outright telling her that she was out of line. And even when Robin _did_ tell her, she thought he was simply being overprotective or asserting his authority or just giving her a hard time. It had only been a week and no one had any idea when Sir Edward was due back, and they were all at their wits end.

"How long do you think we've got before anyone gets back?" Will asked, breaking Djaq out of her thoughts.

"It is hard to know. Perhaps minutes, perhaps an hour. Why do you ask?"

"Um. No reason. Just wondering."

He was actually having the hardest time concentrating on what he was doing. He'd nearly cut himself twice already because he'd been so distracted by the sight of Djaq, across the camp from him, just sitting there fiddling with her herbs. It was so very similar to hundreds of other times he'd watched her without her knowledge.

He had spent so much time being fascinated by absolutely everything she did. And there were many days like this—nights too—where they had both been occupied in a task separately, yet Will had always been unable to keep his eyes off of her for very long. She took his breath away. The way she moved, the way she spoke, the way she would look up occasionally and catch him gazing at her and—Oh...

"Are you alright?" She was asking.

"Yeah. Fine. Just...thinking." And he got up and crossed the space to where she sat. He sidled up behind her and rested his hands on her shoulders. "You know, this may the first time we've been alone here since...well since..._you_ know."

"I have no idea what you are referring to." She smirked, continuing her work.

"Mm. I think you do." He breathed, bending down to nuzzle her neck and letting his hands slip from her shoulders to her breasts.

"Will Scarlett! What on earth has gotten into you? We have an agreement. No '_you know_'—as you so eloquently put it—in the camp. Or have you forgotten?" She asked silkily, angling her neck to give him better access.

"I haven't forgotten. But I'm pretty sure our agreement called for no '_you know_' where the others might hear us. But nobody's here now." He whispered, placing open-mouthed kisses up and down her neck.

"But they soon will be." She squirmed and pulled away from him while she still had the willpower to do so. "Let us go out to the forest where we will not be disturbed."

"But it'll be better _here_." He knew he sounded whiny, but he really didn't care.

The whole time he'd been watching her from across the camp, he'd been reminded of all the times he'd wanted so badly to be able to touch her and kiss her. Even long before their first night together. Nearly every time they'd come back from a successful raid or a mission or anywhere that got their blood pumping and their pulses racing and had everyone in good spirits, he had always had this fantasy that it would make the perfect end to a perfect day to just sweep her off her feet, carry her to bed with him, and kiss her absolutely senseless.

"Why?" She asked, studying his face intently.

"Never mind. Come on, we can go to the forest." He agreed, holding his hands out to her.

He could surely not explain to her what he'd been thinking. Despite the fact that she was his wife now and as close as they'd become, she would still not appreciate that he'd had such thoughts about her way back when.

"Wait. Tell me what is bothering you." She took his hands in hers, but made no move to stand up.

"Nothing." When she cocked her head at him and raised her eyebrows, he added, "What makes you think there's something bothering me?"

"You seem...I do not know...you seem...distracted."

"I'm not distracted. I just want to be with you, that's all." He replied without quite meeting her eyes.

"You want to be with me _here_." It was not a question.

"No. Well yeah. I mean...wher_ever_. I just thought that _here_ might be...kind of...I don't know..._exciting_." He reddened considerably.

When she didn't say anything right away, but continued to listen, he decided to simply dive in and try to explain himself. "You're gonna think I'm some kind of...I don't know...it's just that you know how long I've loved you. And...well...sometimes I used to _think_ about you and...and look at you. Here. In the camp. Just doing whatever. _Not_ changing clothes...or...or...anything like that." He added quickly. Boy, he was making a right mess out of this. "I knew _then_ that I couldn't have you, and I was just watching you _now_ and thinking how—"

He stopped stammering when she stood up and kissed him so hard that he thought he saw stars.

"Okay." She said breathlessly as soon as she'd broken the kiss. "But the others could return at any moment, so we must be very quick. And let us take our clothes with us into the bed so that we may throw them on quickly behind the curtain if we hear anyone coming." She ordered. And she pushed him toward their bed, kicked off her boots, and tried to remove both of their shirts all at the same time. He was both shocked and thrilled by her assertiveness, having feared that she would think the worst of him for what he'd confessed.

A _very_ short time later, after they had...'_you know_' and scrambled back into their clothes, thankful that they hadn't been interrupted, they lay in bed, just holding one another.

If Will hadn't already known that he was the luckiest man in the world, he would have been sure of it from that moment forward. He had always, for some reason, been under the impression that sex was something that men wanted and needed and that women tolerated. He didn't know where he'd picked up such an idea, but with Djaq, he'd discovered that nothing could be further from the truth.

She was much more than just a willing participant, she was downright _eager_. She threw herself into it completely and she did things and made him feel things that he would never have even _thought_ of. Even now, when her stomach had grown to such an extent that they'd had to get rather creative to accommodate it, she seemed to love it just as much as he did. He shouldn't have been surprised, of course. She was always full of life and fire and passion...that was one of the things he'd always loved so much about her. But it still made him thankful each and every time they were together.

"So, was being together in the camp as perfect as you had imagined?" Djaq asked, breaking him out of his reverie.

She had figured that the question would make him blush, as usual. She knew that her forwardness shocked him at times and she sometimes enjoyed teasing him a little just so he wouldn't take things too seriously. She was surprised, then, when he answered simply.

"No."

"No?" She asked in a voice that was half hurt, half disbelief.

"Uh-uh. It was better." He said softly, pulling her closer.

"Better?" This time she smiled.

"Yeah, better. Because this time it was _real_. And being with you...really _being_ with you, not just 'y_ou know_'—"

"I think that we can go ahead and say the word Will." She rolled her eyes indulgently. "If we can _do_ it, we should certainly be able to _say_ it. Do you not agree?" She asked with a smirk.

"_Sex_. There. I said it. You think I'm afraid to say it? Because I'm not. Sex. Sex. _Sex_." He teased. "Anyway, what I was _trying_ to say, before I was so _rudely_ interrupted, was that being with you in every way is so much better than I ever imagined. I always dreamed of being with you and being happy together, but I just never knew that I could be _this_ happy. It almost seems wrong somehow. Like no one should ever get to be so happy." He said, kissing her cheek.

"You deserve to be happy." She said quietly, snuggling closer.

"So do you. You are, aren't you?"

"Very much so." She answered. "So did you really used to watch me? Did you really care for me even back then?" She asked a bit shyly.

"You know that I did. You're just teasing me and I'm not going to fall for it." He answered with a smile.

"No." She shook her head seriously. "I did _not_ know that. I thought that you were like me and that you had figured it out that night...in the storm, when it was cold and we were so close and all alone. I thought it just came to you then."

"Are you _serious_?" He asked. "What do you think I mean when I keep telling you that I've always loved you?"

"I thought that perhaps you loved me but that you only just _realized_ it that night. That maybe you did not know what you felt before that." She explained.

"Is that how it was for you?" They'd never really talked about it before. At first, after reconciling, they were both just so happy to be together. And then after, there had always been so many other things to talk about...it was like they were getting to know one another again and the matter of how they'd first fallen in love hadn't really seemed important.

She nodded. "I knew that I felt something different for you, but I did not know what to call it or what to do about it. But then when we were all alone together and I asked you to hold me closer for warmth...I just lost myself and I kissed you. I did not even know that you felt anything for me in return...anything other than friendship that is. And then everything seemed to happen all at once and I just knew."

"You knew what?" He asked, his voice no louder than a whisper.

"That I had loved you for a while. That I would never love anyone else." She said as he softly kissed her temple. "But you knew before?"

"I always knew. Well, not right away, but I knew that I _liked_ you. Then it wasn't long at all before I knew how much I loved you and that I always would." He told her.

"You were so certain?"

"Very certain. Sometimes I wished I _didn't_ love you. It was hard sometimes...loving you and not being able to tell you. But I knew you wouldn't appreciate hearing it. Still, I never doubted what I felt for you."

"I was a fool. I am sorry. I should have trusted my own feelings. I am very lucky to have you." She said, kissing him tenderly.

"So...what made you change your mind about our no—" he paused for effect "_sex _in the camp agreement?" He asked.

"Well, we still must _not_ make a habit out of it. It would not be fair to everyone. But hearing you speak of the way that you loved me and watched me so long ago made me feel very..._wanted_, I suppose. And you were right. It was exciting to be with you here, in this place where we have shared so much of our lives." She pulled his arms around her more snugly and settled against him.

They continued talking quietly for a little while longer until they decided that, seeing as the others had still not returned, perhaps they should get supper on. Three hours later, everyone returned and simply went about their regular activities with no explanation for the extra-long absence.

"I expected you back hours ago. Where have you all been for so long? Was there trouble?" Djaq questioned as Much carefully and critically inspected what she had prepared for supper.

"No, nothing like that. We've actually been done with deliveries for ages now, but Marian said that we should take our time coming back so that you and Will could have some time alone here. I don't really know what she was on about, but Robin seemed to agree that it was a good idea." Much answered distractedly as he sniffed the stew and added random ingredients.

It had never—and probably _would_ never have—occurred to any of the men that Will and Djaq might like to be alone in the camp from time to time. Leave it to Marian to come up with the idea. It was at that moment that Djaq decided that perhaps _some_ of Marian's suggestions had merit after all.

* * *

Marian was standing discreetly between two houses in the middle of Locksley while she waited for Djaq to come out of Matilda's. She had her hood pulled up completely around her face as she hid in the shadows and tried very hard to cast off the feeling of tedium that was, once again, creeping up on her. After all, Djaq had warned her that today's outing would consist of nothing more exciting than the walk into Locksley, a few moments' stop at the old Wise Woman's house, and then the walk back.

But Marian found herself becoming bored more and more often lately. She had been living in the forest for about two weeks now, and she still felt as if she constantly had to prove herself. The problem was that no one would _let_ her. Robin expected her to wait for his command on every little task and check in with him before performing the simplest of duties and it was all succeeding in driving her absolutely _mad_. She hadn't expected it to be like this.

She wasn't sure what she _had_ expected, but feeling trapped and coddled and being constantly reproached for any bit of free thinking or initiative was _certainly_ not it. Robin still didn't trust her to do things on her own and he insisted on treating her like a child whenever she tried to make even the smallest suggestion about ways they could reach more people and do more good. She would have _thought_ that was what he wanted...to be able to help even more of the poor and suffering who constantly surrounded them.

But all he seemed to want to do was to boss everybody else around and bully them into doing things _his_ way. She'd known that they were _his_ men and he was _their_ leader, but she had always bought into his speeches about no man being greater than any other and all that. And she had thought that there would be so much more freedom for her here than in the life she had been used to. She had thought that she would finally get to really _help_ people...on a larger scale and make a difference and maybe even have a bit of fun for a change.

Was that so wrong?

Did everything always have to be so serious? Couldn't they at least _try_ to make the best out of their lives? Of _course_ living in the forest was a struggle. So was having to stay hidden all the time and eating paltry meals and dealing with the overpowering odor of so many people in one tiny space and absolutely _no_ privacy _at_ _all_. But Marian had always thought that Robin's gang made up for all of that by turning every task into an adventure or a contest. By teasing and joking and always trying to outdo one another...all in good fun, of course.

But instead, they all seemed to be stuck in a rut and they hardly _ever_ did anything particularly daring or bold unless they spent hours—or even _days_—planning it all out ahead of time. And after two weeks, she had finally come to the conclusion that they all needed to lighten up a bit. She'd tried to liven things up whenever possible, and sometimes they _did_ enjoy a good conversation or a story once supper was done with and before everyone turned in for the night.

And sometimes Allan or John went to the tavern to drink, but she could certainly not participate in _that_. Other than that, though, it was all rather boring and aggravating and whenever Marian suggested something new or different than the way they were used to doing things, they all looked at Robin as if they were waiting for him to say something. Apparently, they were all so used to following his lead that they were afraid to make a move without his say so.

And just as Marian was thinking that it would not be such a terrible thing if her father came back sooner rather than later, she heard a familiar voice coming from just outside of Locksley Manor. She pulled her cloak tighter around her face and stealthily made her way over to investigate.

* * *

Djaq was anxious to be on her way. Marian was waiting for her and Djaq had assured her that she would not be long. She had made plans to visit Matilda's for the purpose of delivering a spice from her homeland that the other woman had expressed an interest in, and in order to get some exercise on the walk over. She had _not_ intended to stay for a lecture on her attire.

"Here we are. These should probably do the trick." Matilda announced as she pulled a few old dresses out of a trunk beside her bed.

"Matilda, I told you that it would not be practical for me to wear such a thing. Out in the forest I would be tripping over it constantly."

"And I told _you_ that you can't go around in _those_ things anymore." She said, indicating Djaq's trousers.

That much was true, Djaq knew. The trousers had grown too snug for her recently—or, more precisely, _she_ had grown to big for her trousers—and most of the time she didn't even bother to try to lace them anymore. Her shirt was long enough that it covered her well down to her thighs, and so she left them untied and just tugged them up whenever they started to slip. But even that was getting difficult. They barely fit around her waist at all anymore and they were hell to get on and off.

She had actually had to enlist Will's help in dressing and undressing for bathing more and more frequently over the past month. Although he _certainly_ did not seem to mind...helping her undress, _or_ her fuller body. In fact, she could tell that he absolutely loved the way she had filled out recently. He now made a regular habit of measuring her belly with his hands, cupping her breasts to see how much they had grown, and pinching all of the little fat pockets that now covered her just about _everywhere_.

Yes, Will thought it was all wonderful...

Djaq, on the other hand, found it terribly inconvenient.

But Matilda was right...she simply could not go on this way. The trousers were just not working for her anymore. But a dress? Now that was drastic. It was _not_ that she was opposed to wearing an English dress because of the way it _looked_, she really didn't care about that sort of thing—even though it _did_ seem to be designed for the sole purpose of showing as much cleavage as possible and it made Djaq wonder whether a _man_ had been responsible for its design.

But such a garment seemed utterly impractical for her. It hung low at the bottom and had long sleeves and it seemed certain to _hinder_ one's movements more than anything else. But it would be easier to put on..._and_ get off...not to mention that she wouldn't have to constantly tug at her trousers when she felt them falling down. But wearing a dress would just mean that she'd be stuck in the camp even more than she already was. Walking, herb collecting, deliveries, _everything_ would be a challenge while wearing such a thing.

"Perhaps Much will help me to take them up a bit at the bottom. Maybe I can get them to where I will be able to walk freely in them after all." Djaq mused, taking the proffered dresses with a nod of thanks.

"You'd better go now before your _friend_ gets antsy." Matilda said.

Djaq knew that Matilda was aware of the fact that Marian was staying with them in the forest. She was not a stupid woman and she had recognized the cloaked figure—who anyone with eyes could tell was a woman—and who now seemed to accompany them everywhere they went. But Matilda had never come out and asked and Djaq, of course, had never volunteered the information, and so it remained known but unspoken between them.

And Djaq really _did_ need to get out there...before Marian got into something she shouldn't. She was certain that Marian was disappointed at doing nothing today except walking to and from Locksley, and Djaq really could not blame her for that. Marian had been all set to go with Robin and the others into the surrounding villages for their regular deliveries—Djaq never went anywhere except for Locksley these days—when Robin had suggested, with a weak smile and a shrug to Djaq, that Marian accompany _her_ instead.

Marian had protested that she could be of far more use to the others than to Djaq, who hardly needed a chaperone, but Robin had stood firm and the others had all looked at Djaq with pleading puppy-dog expressions. Djaq, for her part, had absolutely no objections to Marian joining her. But she knew that Marian preferred something with a bit more excitement. Djaq, knowing exactly how that felt, certainly sympathized with her. But Robin insisted and the others had all gone off without her, leaving Marian angry and restless.

The walk to Locksley had actually been fine. The two women had chatted and laughed about some of the men's more slovenly habits and the time and the distance had gone by rather quickly. Marian had only complained once, and that was to lament the fact that the outlaws, as far as _she_ could see, never actually had any fun.

Djaq told her about some of Allan's more drunken antics and how the others had all blackmailed him for weeks after because of some of his outrageous behavior. And she told her about some of Robin's more daring ideas that, thankfully, had never gone past the planning stages. She explained to Marian that they had their own kind of fun, but that things had been busy lately and usually everyone was just relieved to end the day in one piece.

Djaq felt very sorry for Marian. _Really_ she did. She'd had her suspicions that Marian would not enjoy life in the forest nearly as much as she'd thought she would. And Djaq, now feeling rather stifled and cut-off herself due to her advanced pregnancy, understood exactly how Marian was feeling. But Marian simply had to understand that they worked as a team and that _team_ had a leader, whereas Marian was used to working on her own and answering to no one. And Djaq was worried that, before things got any better, they would have to get a whole lot worse and that Marian was going to do something impulsive one of these days and really put herself in serious danger.

So she bid Matilda farewell and carefully stepped outside, checking to be certain the coast was clear. As soon as she had shut the door behind her, Marian stepped out of nowhere and grabbed her by the arm.

"We've got to go. Come on." Marian commanded.

"What has happened? Were you recognized?" Djaq asked, reaching for the sword at her waist.

"No no. Nothing like that. I heard Guy talking to his sergeant and he said he's keeping some of the tax money in his basement for the Sheriff. Apparently the Sheriff is suspicious that Robin did not attempt to rob your friend on his way out of town and now he's sure that Robin's planning something big. Guy's gone off to find out what the Sheriff wants done with the money and if we hurry, we can get it out before he returns. It's not even being properly guarded since only Guy and his sergeant know it's down there."

"How did you hear all of this?" Djaq asked.

"I heard Guy voice and I hid nearby and listened. Apparently there's quite a sum down there. Let's go!" She said excitedly.

"Oh, that's good. We must go and find Robin at once. They were headed to Clun and Nettlestone. You should borrow a horse and go ahead without me. I will only slow you down and Robin will want to know as soon as possible." Djaq told her.

"What? No. Why should we waste time trying to find _Robin _when you and I are already here? We can do it ourselves." Marian declared, tugging Djaq toward the manor.

"Marian are you mad?" She demanded, stopping dead in her tracks and forcing Marian to do the same. "There are only two of us and _one_ of us is very much with-child and will be unable to fight or lift anything heavy or even _run_ very fast. Besides, _Robin_ will want to know about this."

"I'm _telling_ you there's no _time_ for that, Djaq. Look, you're right about your condition. So I'll sneak in and grab whatever I can carry and you just keep a lookout. If Guy or his guards return, do that bird whistle thing you all do." And she'd started to run off in the direction of Gisbourne's house when Djaq reached out and grabbed her arm.

"Marian _stop_! You can_not_ do this! We need the others. We need a _plan_. This is no time to be impulsive. Just go and find Robin quickly rather than wasting time arguing with me."

"_You_ are the one who's wasting time arguing. I could have been _in_ there already." Marian said in exasperation.

"And what would you do once you were inside?" Djaq challenged.

"I'd head to the basement and use my dagger to pick whatever locks are in place on the money and then I'd load up as much as I could carry." She answered impatiently. "What do you have there?"

"What these? They are dresses from Matilda. Why?" Djaq asked suspiciously.

"Let me see them. Oh that's good. I can use them to pour the coins into and then I can tie them up and sling them over my shoulder. I'll be able to bring out much more that way." She said, taking the dresses.

"Marian, there is no way that we are doing this" Djaq tried to get her to see reason. "I am going to go and find Robin and the others, and that is final. But it would be so much faster if you would simply do as I _say_ and ride ahead of me. Marian!" She called as quietly as she could as Marian tore off at a run. "_Marian_!" But the other woman was gone, off to Gisbourne's and who knew what dangers.

Djaq was torn. It didn't feel right letting Marian go in there by herself, but she could surely not risk her baby by going in after her. And besides, what could she do if she _did_ follow her? What Djaq had told her was true...she couldn't really fight or run or _anything_. Besides, Marian was absolutely _determined_ to do this. She wanted so badly to prove her worth to Robin.

Djaq understood. She had been much the same way when _she_ had joined the gang...always determined to show everyone that she could hold her own, that she was valuable to them, that they _needed_ her. And Marian seemed set on this course regardless of _what_ Djaq said or did.

The sensible thing to do, of course, would be to set off for Clun in search of Robin and the others and then, if she didn't find them there, to go on to Nettlestone. She was of no real _use_ to Marian here. Marian's suggestion that Djaq alert her with a bird call if anyone was coming was absurd. There was no way that Marian would be able to hear something like that from inside of Gisbourne's basement.

So Djaq knew that she should start on the long walk to find the gang. She wished that she could just hop on someone's horse and go. She'd be there in no time on horseback. But, of course, that was out of the question. She'd simply have to walk. She'd go and get the others and then Robin could ride back and get Marian _out_ of there...or get the money...or whatever he wanted to do. Yes. Djaq knew what had to be done.

But she just could _not_ bring herself to do it. She could not leave Marian behind. It was such a long walk and she moved so slowly these days, that she did not know if she would be able to catch up to the gang or if they would be able to get to Marian before Gisbourne returned and discovered her in his house. Under normal circumstances, Marian could probably have simply sweet talked him into believing that she had come to see _him. _But these were _not_ normal circumstances.

Gisbourne and the Sheriff believed Marian to be out of town with Sir Edward. If Marian was discovered in Nottingham before her father returned, she _and_ her father would _both_ be in grave danger. The Sheriff would wonder why he had been lied to _and_ about the true nature of Sir Edward's trip. And Gisbourne would surely wonder where Marian had spent the past two weeks that her father had been away.

There would just be too many unanswerable questions and even Marian's brains and charm might not be enough to save her this time. Although, there was always the chance that Marian would do exactly as she had said...grab some money and come right back out. Maybe Gisbourne would not even be back by then.

Oh, it was _maddening_! Djaq really was not certain what the best thing was to do. _Damn_ Marian for putting her in such a position!

Then, suddenly, her blood froze as she saw Gisbourne's horse coming from way down the road. She hurried closer to the manor and tried the stupid bird call in what she hoped was the part of the house where the basement was located.

Nothing.

She tried again, a little louder this time. _Still_ no Marian. Djaq concentrated hard and bit her lip until it bled but no matter how hard she tried, she could not come up with an alternative to what she was about to do...what she _knew_ was probably the dumbest and most dangerous thing she had _ever_ done.

She hesitated only a second longer, until she heard the hooves of Gisbourne's horse as he approached. And then with one hand on her sword, she pried open a back window and climbed inside.

She had been inside Robin's former home on a few occasions, but she was not exactly familiar with the layout. And she _certainly_ had no idea where the basement was. But, if she had to guess, she would place it somewhere beneath the pantry or the storeroom. At least that's where _Djaq_ would put a basement if _she_ were building a house. So she made her way toward the kitchen and decided to work from there, as quickly as she could.

There were servants milling about and having to hide from them slowed her progress considerably. She kept an eye out for Thornton, knowing with absolute certainty that he could be trusted. He could surely point her in the direction of the basement and probably even hold off Gisbourne for a few moments while they made their escape. But he was nowhere to be seen and Djaq did not feel confident enough in the loyalty of any of Gisbourne's _other_ servants to risk involving them.

Finally she found the pantry and, sure enough, just below was a door leading to what could only be the basement. She knew that Gisbourne would be coming in at any time now, but she felt that if she could just get to Marian, the two of them could at least slip out of the basement and find some other room to hide in until they could make a clean getaway. Gisbourne's bedroom was not exactly where Djaq thought she would be spending her afternoon, but hiding up _there_ was far preferable to hiding in a dank and dark basement with only one way in or out.

As she reached for the door handle she held her breath and prayed that Marian was down there and that she would listen to reason. She crept down the dark and perilous steps and waited for her eyes to adjust to the dim light, coming from a single wall torch below, before calling out to Marian. She could hear the faint sound of someone's shallow breathing far below and she unsheathed her sword, silently cursing Marian once again for pulling such a stunt and endangering them both.

Just as she came off of the final step, she saw a gleam out of the corner of her eye and lifted her sword instinctively. Swish! A blade came towards her and only her nights spent on the battlefields of her homeland could have prepared her to defend herself from such an attack in the dark.

"Djaq?" Marian breathed out shakily, causing Djaq to sheath her weapon. "I'm sorry. It was too dark to see and I thought you were Guy or one of his men. What are you doing in here? I told you to wait outside."

"Gisbourne was coming and when you did not come out I thought that I had better come to warn you. We have to get out of here right now. Who knows how long it will be before he comes to check on the money." Djaq said in a manner that unmistakably conveyed that they would now be doing things _her_ way.

"Okay. You're right. I'm sorry, Djaq" She said as they carefully made their way up the barely visible staircase. "I shouldn't have done this. I...I couldn't even get the stupid chests open. It was all for nothing." She sighed heavily.

"That is not what matters right now. What matters is that we get _out_ of here before someone besides _us_ opens that door." Djaq said through gritted teeth as they climbed the last few steps together.

"Djaq?" Marian said quietly, having dropped her voice now that they had neared the door. "Please don't tell Robin." She pleaded. "He'll just think that I can't take—"

"Marian!" Djaq's panicked voice cut her off. "Marian the door will not budge! It seems to be locked! Here. _Help_ me!" She ordered. And they both frantically twisted and turned the handle and pushed and pulled on the heavy wooden door, all to no avail.

"I don't understand!" Marian was starting to tremble. "Did someone lock us in? Does that mean they know we're down here? Do you think Robin will come for us?"

"No one is coming for us, Marian." Djaq replied in a flat voice filled with dread. "The others will have no idea where to look for us and we are trapped in here with no way out."

* * *

**A/N:**

**_Dun Dun Dun!_ **(I always wanted to do that.) Review?


	24. No Way Out

**No Way Out**

Robin and the lads were actually _enjoying_ making deliveries for a change. Everything had been a lot more stressful since Marian had joined them in the forest and because of that, they had all begun to dread their routine outings. But today they'd managed to slip off without her for the afternoon and so were feeling freer than any of them had in the past two weeks.

That was a harsh way of thinking about her, Robin knew. And he _did_ feel rather guilty. Or, at least, he _had_ felt guilty when he'd seen the look of bewilderment and disappointment on her face when he'd ordered her to accompany Djaq into Locksley instead of joining _them_ as she'd planned.

And it certainly hadn't made him feel any better about it when he'd caught Djaq's eye and seen the clear look of disapproval there. Djaq, Robin knew, had not been best pleased with the way he'd been dealing with Marian so far. She'd tried to counsel him more than once, over the past couple of weeks, that shouting at Marian and lecturing her on her behavior was only making things worse and that he needed to find a way to ease Marian into the way they did things so that she would feel like a real member of the gang.

But now, after seeing how much lighter and more energized his lads were—not to mention how much faster and smoother the day was going so far—he _knew_ that he had made the right decision in leaving her behind this time. Without Marian's constant attempts to take over and steer them into every dangerous situation she could find, Robin was content in a way he'd forgotten he could be. Still, he _did_ feel bad, of course, and he vowed to himself that he would make it up to her somehow. He knew that she wasn't happy in their current arrangement and he wished he knew of a way to make her more comfortable.

Truth be told, he wasn't exactly _thrilled_ having her there either.

_That_ realization had come as quite a shock to him. After all, he had spent the better part of the past two years trying to convince her to throw caution to the wind and join him in the forest. He loved her and he'd thought that having her with him everyday without dreading the moment that she would have to run back to Gisbourne at the end of the day would be a relief. But she seemed determined to try his patience in every way and constantly challenge him in front of his men. He just didn't understand why she couldn't simply do things _his way_. Why did everything have to be a competition with her?

He was drawn from his thoughts by a sound he'd not heard nearly enough lately. Happiness.

"Goodbye, good people of Clun." Much called dramatically to no one in particular, seeing as the _good people of Clun_ had collected their share of the food and money the gang passed out and immediately returned to their homes and shops and plows. "Nettlestone, here we come! You know, I don't think we've _ever_ worked this quickly before."

"It does seem that way, doesn't it?" John agreed.

"Wait. D'you hear that?" Allan asked as they walked in the direction of Nettlestone.

"What?" Robin asked as he stopped and listened, suddenly alert and with his hand on his bow.

"I don't hear anything." Will whispered after a moment had passed with all of them listening intently yet hearing nothing out of the ordinary.

"Exactly." Allan announced gleefully resuming their walk. "No nagging, no annoying questions, no 'oh-so-helpful' suggestions. In short, _no_ _women_."

"Allan." Robin admonished.

"Hey! _Djaq's_ a woman." Will did not appreciate having Djaq lumped into a category with people who were supposedly naggy and annoying when she was anything _but_.

And, frankly, he missed having Djaq along on deliveries. She had decided that it wouldn't be safe—for her _or_ for them—to have her there since she'd become too big to be able to run to safety if there was any trouble, and she was unable to fight. She said that it would not do for the rest of them to have to protect her if the need arose.

So she only went as far as Locksley now. She still had to be very careful, but at least _there_ she felt relatively safe. Will agreed completely with the decision and was relieved that she was out of harm's way, but he found that he really missed her. Bad. It was stupid and foolish considering that he still saw her every day and night and got to share meals and walks and even a bed with her. But she had always been an integral part of the gang and their adventures, and something was missing when she wasn't around. Especially for _him_.

"Well, yeah. Djaq's a woman, that's true. But you know, she's pretty slow these days herself. And we'd never be done this quickly if we had to stand around waiting for her to waddle along and catch up all the time." Allan shrugged.

"She does _not_ waddle!" Will insisted.

She did, though.

He knew that she did and he actually thought it was undeniably cute. But Djaq _hated_ it and refused to acknowledge that she did it. Therefore Will was insulted that anyone else would call attention to it.

"Will, I'm sorry, but the woman _waddles_." Robin tried to hide his grin.

"Yeah? Well she...she's pregnant. What do you expect? It's harder for her to get around now that she's so..." His voice trailed off as he couldn't think of a polite way to describe what he was trying to say.

"Big?"

"Fat?"

"Round?"

"Abnormally large and egg shaped?"

John, Much, Robin, and Allan helpfully offered their own ideas for what Will was trying to say, and with only the _tiniest_ grins on their faces.

"That's not funny and you're all _way_ out of line." Will started to storm off ahead of the others when he felt a large hand on his shoulder.

"Come on now. Lighten up." John said.

"Yeah. Come on." Allan agreed. "We're just messing with you. You know we don't mean nothing by it. It's good she's so—"

"Hey!" Will warned.

"What? I was gonna say _healthy_. It's good she's so _healthy_." Allan grin widely at the look on Will's face. "That means everything's going as it should, right? So we'll be meeting Little Scarlett pretty soon."

"Yeah." Will smiled, forgetting everything else. "In just a few months."

"So have you and she thought about names yet?" Robin asked. "Or are you gong to make us wait for the naming ceremony before we find out?"

"The _what_?" The others, including Will, asked in a variety of puzzled voices.

"The naming ceremony. _I_ don't know what they call it. Where everyone gathers and you announce the child's name and do some other stuff. Like a week after the birth or something like that. _You_ must know more about it than _I_ do by now." Robin answered with a shrug.

"Is that some eastern thing? 'Cause Djaq never mentioned anything about it. The only thing she's ever said was about something called a _tahnik._" Will pronounced the word in very stilted Arabic as best he could. "But that's just where we put a bit of date on the baby's gums right after he's born. It's some kind of tradition, she says. But I don't know about any naming ceremony."

"Well I don't know much either. I obviously never knew anyone who gave birth while I was in the Holy Land. But there was an old Saracen man who traveled with us as a translator for the King and he sometimes spoke of different traditions and rituals." Robin said.

"Aban, right?" Much asked. Robin nodded. "He's the one who helped Robin read the Kor-an." Much announced proudly to the others.

"The _Qur'an_." Will corrected absently.

"Um, yeah. Okay. Whatever." Much gave him a strange look.

Will hardly noticed, as he was still thinking of what Robin had said. He felt so bad that there was so much of Djaq's culture and religion she was missing now that she lived in England. He wondered why she hadn't told him that there were special ways of doing certain things with the baby. Maybe she was waiting until the birth got closer? Maybe she didn't think he'd be interested? Or maybe she didn't even _know_ about it. She had said that motherhood had not been something she'd thought much about. He wasn't sure if he should ask her or not. And there was no one else who would know.

"Hello? Anybody home in there?" Allan knocked on Will's forehead causing him to scowl, but bringing him out of his reverie.

"What?" Will asked.

"I was asking if you'd decided on a name?" Robin said.

"Oh. Sorry. Yeah. Daniel for a boy and Janaan for a girl." He answered.

"Daniel. After your father. He'd be proud." John told him with a pat on the back and the others all nodded their agreement.

"And Janaan because it's sort of an Arabic version of Jane, after my mum. Djaq picked it. It means someone's heart." Will explained.

"That's a pretty name." Much said.

"Look, I don't mean to break up this lovely chat, but can we get a move on please?" Allan suggested. "What's the good of having a day without the women if we're just gonna take our time and yap about babies. We might as well be a bunch of women ourselves. Let's go."

"Are we keeping you from something important, Allan?" Robin asked.

"Yes, if you must know. Once we're done for the day, I'm off to the castle kitchen for a bit of social interaction." He answered with a wink.

"Ah, well then, by all means let's hurry up. We wouldn't want to deprive any of the kitchen girls of Allan's company. Now would we?" Robin answered sarcastically as the gang carried on to Nettlestone to continue their deliveries.

* * *

Djaq let out a long, frustrated breath.

"Do you think the door is just _stuck_? Or do you think we were deliberately locked in?" Marian asked, as the sound of Djaq sighing brought her out of her deliberation.

They were facing one another, seated on top of two money chests, with their shoulders slumped in complete despair. Marian had her legs folded up under her body while Djaq, being unable to bend into such a position thanks to her advanced pregnancy, kept both feet on the floor. Both of them had been deep in thought as they struggled to come up with something—_anything_—that would get them closer to freedom.

"The door opened with no trouble when I came down, but I do not know. It did not _seem_ stuck when we tried it. It _seemed_ locked. But I suppose that anything is possible." Djaq answered flatly, taking a very small sip from her water skin. Luckily, both women carried one and each was being very careful to make its contents last as long as she could. They had no idea how long they would be trapped. They were not even certain how long they had already _been_ trapped.

They had already exhausted every possibility for a means of escape that either woman could conceive of short of banging on the door and hoping to be heard by someone above—which would be dangerous and foolish, to say the least. Yet they were no nearer to being out of Gisbourne's basement than they had been hours earlier when they had discovered the locked door.

"If someone _did_ lock us down here, why bother? If it was Guy or one of his guards, why not just take us to the Sheriff right away? Why leave us _here_? It doesn't make sense." Marian said. She knew that _how _they'd gotten stuck down there was much less important than _how _they could get out_. _But she could feel herself starting to lose hope and, what was almost worse, she could sense _Djaq_ giving up. So she spoke merely to stave off the quiet until her brain supplied her with something more productive to impart.

"It does not make sense, you are right. Perhaps the door is stuck after all." Djaq again replied in that same flat tone. "Or maybe it was not Gisbourne, but a servant instead who locked us in. Perhaps someone spotted me sneaking down here and trapped us until they could alert him. I tried to be very careful and I do not _believe_ that I was seen, but, as I say, anything is possible at this point."

"Except, apparently, _escaping_." Marian sighed.

"Except for that. Yes." Djaq agreed.

They had already spent a significant amount of time frantically trying to pick the lock with the daggers that both women always carried hidden on their person. When that failed, Marian tried to pry the door loose from its hinges by using her sword as a sort of wedge and pushing down on it with as much force as she could muster. _That_ only succeeded in causing her to be flung backwards so violently that she nearly tumbled down the stairs and broke her neck.

After that, they had both decided that perhaps moving away from the door and off of the steps would be prudent, not _only_ because of the potential for accidents, but also because they knew that someone who meant them harm could open the door at any moment and just standing there would be rather like offering themselves up on a platter.

So they had reluctantly given up the door as a lost cause and went to work searching every inch of the basement for a rear exit. The space was not a terribly large one, but it was somewhat cluttered and there were enough hidden areas that they had been hopeful that _one_ of them might be concealing a second door.

They were wrong.

And darkness was becoming a problem. There was only one lit torch on the wall, presumably left by whomever had brought the chests down earlier in the day, and its light was fading fast. The room seemed to be closing in around them as flickering shadows stretched and elongated across the walls and corners were swallowed up by the growing blackness. They could hear rats scurrying across the floor and they were not anxious to be alone in the dark with the vile creatures.

"Every time that an idea starts to form in my head, I am immediately struck by ten different reasons why it just won't work." Marian sighed.

Djaq nodded slowly. "We may have to face the fact that _nothing_ we come up with is going to be ideal and that there is a very good chance that _one_ or _both_ of us may not make it out of here alive." Djaq said in a defeated voice.

Marian was stunned by Djaq's words as well as her manner. "Don't talk that way, Djaq. We are not yet doomed. There is always at least a sliver of hope. We must think positively."

"Fine. I suppose that it is possible that Gisbourne will decide not to _hang_ you, considering that he has very strong feelings for you. That is something to hope for then." Djaq offered dryly.

"Well, that's a place that we can _start_, at least. Perhaps his feelings for me can, in some way, save us _both_."

"Although," Djaq continued after a moment's reflection, as if she had not not heard Marian's reply. "if he is at all suspicious about why you are here and where you have really been since your father left, he will certainly feel betrayed and his pride will be wounded. And _then_ I fear that he may very well do something far _worse_ than having you killed before he has time to regret where his thoughts have taken him."

Marian shuddered. She had no desire to ask what Djaq meant by a punishment worse than death, but the statement instantly brought to mind something that Marian should have considered earlier. She knew very little of the circumstances surrounding Djaq's life before England, but she was well aware that she'd been trapped, caged, and dragged here like some sort of animal. If not for Robin and the others, she might still be a captive.

Being locked in a dark and cramped space, surrounded by filthy rats, with no way out and the knowledge that armed and cruel men could be coming for her at any moment must be an experience of which Djaq had thought herself forever free. A punishment worse than death, indeed. Marian had no doubt that there were horrors in this world that she could not even imagine but that the woman in front of her knew all too well.

"The way that I see it, Marian," Djaq began quietly after contemplating everything thoroughly for a few moments more, "we have three options for when someone comes through that door. We can _hide_ and hope that we are not seen. Of course, that only works if they are not already aware that we are down here. And even if we _were_ able to hide from them successfully, we would still be stuck down here with no food and very little water for who knows how long."

"_That_ hardly sounds like much of a solution." Marian supplied weakly.

"No, you are right. But it is a means of staying safe, at least. The second option would be to try and talk our way out somehow."

"How? I can't imagine what either of us could say that would explain our presence in Sir Guy's basement, and with the _tax money_ no less."

"I did not say that it was an option likely to _work_, only that it was an option. But I figure that perhaps you could do as you said and rely on Gisbourne's feelings for you. He is a fool where you are concerned and he will want desperately to believe whatever you tell him. So, providing that he has not yet involved the Sheriff, you may still have some hope of swaying him."

"I could _try_." Marian agreed. "I suppose I could make up a story about wandering down here accidentally. I could say that I came to see him and thought I saw him come down into the basement and followed him, only to find that _he_ was not here and that _I_ was locked in. You could stay out of sight and, if it works, you would just slip out after Guy and I exit."

"But I do not know how you will explain your presence _here_ when you are supposed to be away with your father." Djaq let out a heavy breath and stretched her aching back.

"I could tell him that I missed him terribly and so convinced my father to allow me to travel back on my own. Do you think he would buy that?" She asked, mostly in jest.

"It does not sound very convincing to me, but that is probably because I find the idea of you missing Gisbourne very absurd. Therefore it would probably make sense to _him _because he is a fool. He thinks that you are quite fond of him, does he not?"

"He seems to be under that impression, yes." Marian replied, choosing not to mention that the _reason_ he persisted in believing such a thing was because it had been to her advantage to encourage it over the years—a fact of which both women were quite well aware. "But still, I cannot imagine that such a tale would go over very well with him. He is not a stupid man, Djaq."

"If you say so, Marian." Djaq rolled her eyes.

She was always struck by the little ways in which Marian defended the man. She would happily—even proudly—lie to him, use him, lead him on and steal from him. She professed to despise all that he did and everything that he stood for. And yet she could never seem to fully vilify him in her own mind...there always seemed to be a tiny hint of denial and even loyalty lurking just beneath the surface—as if she could not _quite_ manage to write him off as being unredeemable. Djaq merely shook her head and said nothing to challenge Marian's assertion—she really could not have cared less at that moment.

"There is one other possibility." Djaq said instead. "I hesitate even to bring it up because it is, by far, the worst of the three. But it has presented itself in my mind and so I may as well voice it...besides, it may be unavoidable."

"I'm almost afraid to hear it." Marian admitted.

"We fight. We prepare ourselves for the worst and we fight our way out. Luckily, we are both armed. We stand off to the side of the stairs, in the shadows where we will not be easily seen. We wait for the door to open and our captors to make their way down near the bottom of the steps. Then we strike immediately, seizing the advantage. And as soon as we see an opening, we run for the door and do not look back." Djaq stated.

"But your _baby_! Just one kick or punch to the abdomen or even a hard shove could do terrible damage. Not to mention what a sword would do. You should stay behind _me_ and _I'll_ fight. Or, better yet, maybe you could stay hidden in the shadows while I fight and then _you_ make a run for the stairs as soon as the coast is clear. I'll follow as soon as I can." Marian declared.

"I know that you are good, Marian, but what chance will you have on your own, or what chance will even the _two_ of us have, if there is more than just a handful of guards? There really is no perfect solution to this problem. We are trapped and help will not be forthcoming. Even once Will and the others realize that we are missing, this is probably the last place that they would ever think to look for us."

The fact that Djaq had stopped referring to '_Robin and the others_' and had begun to refer to _Will_ instead, was in no way lost on Marian. Anytime she had ever been on a mission with Djaq—and even this afternoon when Marian had come up with the idea for taking the tax money—Djaq had always spoken of _Robin_. _Robin needs to hear this. We must find Robin at once. Robin will decide what should be done. Robin said to stay here. _And on and on it went.

Always.

Djaq was a soldier and Robin was her leader and Marian had always found it incredibly curious, frustrating, and even somewhat admirable the way that Djaq seemed to defer to him in _all_ matters. Even since marrying Will, Robin had held Djaq's first loyalty where their cause was concerned. So to hear her now lapse out of soldier mode and into the almost secondary role of woman—Will's wife to be exact—was startling and a definite cause for concern.

"So then do you have any other ideas?" Marian asked, mainly as a means of keeping Djaq thinking about an escape.

Djaq sighed. "No. And you are right about the danger to my pregnancy. I would be clumsy and useless in a fight anyway and I do not want to place my baby in any danger. Although, of course, I should have considered _that_ before."

"I'm so sorry, Djaq. I know how foolishly I behaved. I know how foolishly I've _been_ behaving. I never meant for any of this to happen and I especially never meant to put you and your baby in any danger. Can you ever forgive me?"

"This is not the time to dwell on such matters, Marian. I have more serious things on my mind at the moment than your conscience." Djaq snapped causing Marian to flinch and grow silent.

After a moment, Djaq took a deep breath and spoke. "I am sorry, Marian. I should not have spoken that way. I did not mean to snap at you. I...I can not abide small, dark spaces."

"I can imagine." Marian said gently.

"I am not angry with you, though. I am angry with myself. I simply should not have come down here after you. I should have gone to find the others. I just...I feared that I would not get to them before you were discovered. But this is so much worse because now we are _both_ trapped here and no one will know. No one _good_, at least." Djaq sighed.

"Do you want to hear something ironic?" Marian asked. "I have spent the last...oh I would say..._seven_ years feeling trapped and helpless and thinking I was stuck. And now I find out what it's _really_ like."

"Why seven years?"

"I suppose it started when Robin left for the Holy Land. I don't know if you know this, but we were betrothed to one another since childhood. Oh you should have known him then, Djaq." Her voice took on a wistfulness that Djaq rarely heard from her. "He was so full of life and spirit as a young man. Always daring, always having a good time. I was so entranced by him. He was the type of man everybody stared at. _All_ the time. He _always_ commanded attention. But he always made _me_ feel so _special_. He used to sneak over to our estate in the middle of the night sometimes. Just to talk. He would be at home, in bed, and he would get these _ideas_ and be unable to sleep. So he would sneak over and climb up to my window and we would sit and talk for hours. Poor Much used to follow him sometimes just to make sure that nothing happened to him. Or perhaps it was to protect my honor, who knows." She laughed. "But Robin was so sweet and he shared his thoughts with me and I felt like I was the luckiest girl in the world knowing that I would one day get to be his wife. You should have known him then."

"He does not sound all that different to me. Commanding attention, sneaking off to see you, being daring." Djaq said as a thought was slowly forming in the back of her mind.

"Oh but he was. He _was_ different. Because he was _mine_. His smiles, his playfulness, his bold and daring schemes...they were all for _me_." Marian said, her voice dropping some of its dreamy quality and taking on a slightly bitter tone.

"Is he not _yours_ still?" Djaq asked. But as she listened, she dug deep into her stash of memories, searching for something.

"Ha!" Marian laughed again but it lacked any mirth this time and ended up sounding shrill and almost frightening...even to her own ears. "Mine? No, Djaq. He is not mine. Not anymore. Not since he returned. When he came to me and told me he was going off to war, I shouldn't have been surprised. I knew that he was always looking for glory...always trying to prove himself, to _outdo_ himself. So I should have expected it. But I didn't. What I _expected_ was that we would be married in a year or two. That he wanted that as much as _I_ did."

Djaq said nothing, she merely listened and continued to pick through her thoughts.

"But he chose glory over the life we could have had. So many men are _sent_ off to war, sent _away_ from their homes and families against their will. They go because they are ordered to it. Or because they have a burning belief in something and they must fight to uphold it. But not Robin. No. He went because he'd run out of ways to prove himself in England. Plain and simple. He didn't seem to care that he was taking _my_ future with him."

"Marian I..." Djaq felt as if she should stop Marian before she said too much. She had not realized that the conversation would take such a personal turn and she was uncomfortable hearing things about Robin that he would surely not wish her to know. But seeing as she and Marian would probably not get out of there alive, she decided to let the woman speak her peace if that was what she needed. "Nothing. Go ahead."

Marian paused for a moment's reflection and then continued. "So he told me he was leaving. He was so very _chivalrous_ about the whole thing too." She laughed again, bitterly. "He apologized but said that he knew that I, of all people, would understand. Because we were of a like mind in all things. _That's_ what he said as he crushed my hopes and dreams of marriage and children and a life spent in his company. That we were of a 'like mind'. And then he said—and I will never forget this as long as I live—he said that as much as he loved me, he gave me leave to marry another if my heart so led me. I almost hated him at that moment, Djaq. So I said the only thing I could think of. I told him that I would do just that. That I would marry another and never give _him_ another thought. And I sent him away."

"But you did _not_ marry another." Djaq observed.

"No. How could I when he owned my heart? At first, when he'd been gone for no more than a year or so, I threw myself into my life full force. Banquets, balls, playing hostess for my father whenever he entertained other nobles or foreign visitors. My father was still Sheriff at that point, you see. And so I kept myself busy and I didn't even see what an empty existence I led. I do not mean without Robin. I mean that my life had no meaning. That endless parties and dinners and dresses were nothing in a world where children go to bed hungry every night. Where parents toil and break their backs in order to pay taxes to finance a war that none of them really care anything about. And they _still_ can't feed their families."

"But surely things could not have been so bad under your father, Marian. He is not a man like Vaysey." Djaq said.

"While it's true that things weren't _nearly_ as bad as they have gotten now, there were still people suffering under my father. Not because he was unjust or corrupt. But because there are _always_ people suffering. I fear there always will be. Then there came a point, not long after my father lost his position, when I began to see the world for what it really was and I determined to do all that I could to ease people's suffering."

As Djaq continued to listen, her unconscious mind finally settled upon something obscure and trivial that she had been told or overheard once and tucked away for future reference...just in case.

"So I became the Nightwatchman. I thought I could change things. But it wasn't enough. It's _never_ enough, Djaq. And so I went from feeling trapped and helpless, waiting for Robin to return, to feeling trapped and helpless over never being able to do enough for the people of Nottingham. And I couldn't even openly do _anything_. It was maddening. Oh I could give a few coins to the beggars without raising any eyebrows, but anything more than that would be like openly suggesting that not all in Nottingham was well and good. And Vaysey would never have tolerated that."

Djaq was troubled by the persistently nagging thought that tugged at her brain. It was important, she was sure of it. But the more she reached for it, the further out of her grasp it flew.

"Then Robin returned and he became 'Robin Hood' man of the people." Marian continued, unaware that Djaq's mind was divided between listening to her tale and trying to recapture a memory. "He just _strolled_ back into town and then promptly walked away from it all. From _everything_. From his home, his title, his lands. From any chance we would ever have of marrying. I know that he did it for a good cause and that Will, Allan, and the other young men have their lives because of Robin's actions. But still, once he became an outlaw, it was almost like he never really came back at all. Not to _me_. He belongs to England now. To the people. He is _everyone's_. He will never truly be _mine_ again. I waited five years for marriage and a family. I mean, I wasn't even certain if I _wanted_ that when he first returned. But he, once again, took the matter right out of my hands." Marian squeezed her eyelids to block the angry tears that threatened to flow.

"And I've been _so_ _angry_ with him for such a long time." She continued. "I guess that's why a part of me always seems to push him away whenever he gets too close. Because I'm _still_ angry with him. Even now. I thought I was over all of these feelings, but as soon as I came out to the forest to join him, I felt it all just well up inside of me. And now I may never see him again and I'll never get to apologize and tell him how much I love him." Marian sniffled.

Djaq said nothing. She could not, in good conscience, tell Marian what she wanted to hear...that they would get out of there alive and that everything would be alright. She wished she could. She wished that she _believed_ that. But life had taught her otherwise. Life had taught Saffiya, the girl, some very harsh lessons very early on. And life, it seemed, was not finished teaching Djaq, the woman. So she had resigned herself to the fact that she and her child would probably die in that basement...and Marian right along with them.

After a moment, Marian spoke again. "There are just so many things I want to be able to _do_. For the poor...and for myself. And I know that I've been reckless and foolish lately. I just let myself get so carried away with all of this newfound freedom. Being with Robin, helping people. I guess I let myself get a bit out of control. If I hadn't, neither of us would be stuck in this basement with no way out except a locked door."

"Marian! I've got it!" Djaq exclaimed, jumping to her feet and startling Marian. "Come on and help me." And she walked over to the far wall as quickly as she could manage and started running her hand all along its surface.

"What are you doing?" Marian, who had followed and dropped to her knees beside Djaq, asked her in a gentle voice. She feared that Djaq had perhaps been down there too long and had ceased being rational.

"What you said about Robin sneaking out to meet you and Much following? Well that got me thinking. I remember once hearing Much say something very similar. Only when he explained it, he said that _Robin_ used to climb out of his bedroom window, but that _he_ was too afraid to do so. He said that they could not use the front or back doors, as they were bolted, and so he used to slip out through a loose stone in the basement." She explained as she frantically ran her hands along the wall, ignoring the insects and rodents—not to mention all that such creatures left behind.

Marian immediately joined the search. "Do you think that the stone would still be loose after so many years?"

"I do not know. But the house is old and Gisbourne _probably_ does not spend time exploring it as a young boy would. So it is unlikely that he would have stumbled upon it the way that Robin and Much did and so would have had no cause to order it repaired. Anyway, so far it is our best hope."

"I'm not finding anything. But it must be either this wall or the one it connects to, as they are the only walls in here that would lead to the exterior of the house." Marian observed.

"Yes. And it must be high up considering that we are below ground and Much would have to have been able to reach the ground level easily once he climbed through. You search this one, and I'll get something to stand on and search the other. We must get out of here before Gisbourne comes down. I am amazed that he has not yet done so." Djaq said.

"I hope he's not out there when we climb out. Do you think it's still daylight out there?"

"I am not certain how long we have been down here, but it is probably still daylight. So we must be extra careful, you are right." Djaq replied as she pushed an empty crate over to the wall and carefully heaved herself up on it in order to be able to reach the higher spots that she simply couldn't reach on her own.

"Djaq please be careful." Marian begged. "If you fall..."

"I know. I will be careful."

* * *

"Well, that's the last of it lads." Robin said as they handed off the last purse of coins to a most grateful recipient.

"Hey, here's an idea. Why don't we round up all the villagers and draw them a map that leads right to our camp. That way we can save time _and_ reach more people." It was not the first joke or sarcastic comment that Allan had made at Marian's expense since they'd been in Nettlestone.

In fact, it wasn't even the tenth. And everyone had been growing rather weary of it.

"Alright, Allan. That's enough. Come on. She doesn't mean any harm." Robin said.

"She really only wants to help. She just...gets carried away at times." Much added.

"I'm actually starting to feel a bit bad for leaving her behind today." Will said. "Did you see the look on her face? She really wanted to come with us."

"I know." Robin agreed guiltily. "I just wish there was some way that I could get her to understand that we do things this way for a _reason_. It's like she thinks that all of our routines and boundaries are in place just to _challenge_ her and make her life difficult."

"Maybe we've been going at this all wrong." John said.

"How? We've explained everything to her over and over again and she just doesn't get it. What more can we do?" Allan asked.

"That's not so." John answered. "_Robin_ has explained it to her. Maybe we _all_ need to sit her down and let her know that we're happy she's with us, but that we have a certain way we do things. That we do them that way for a reason. We can tell her that she's going to get herself or one of us hurt if she doesn't calm down. Maybe she'd accept it better if it came from everyone."

"But we don't want to embarrass her." Much said anxiously.

"But is it any more embarrassing than having Robin yelling at her all the time?" Will asked.

"Hey!"

"Sorry, Robin." Will said. "But you two fought like cats and dogs even _before_ she came to stay with us. So maybe she just sees this as more of the same. And the more you raise your voice and get angry with her, the more she seems determined to do things her own way. So maybe John has a point."

"It's worth a try, I guess. I'm in." Allan agreed and the others said the same. "So Will, why is it you never have this problem with _your_ wife?"

"What'd you mean? Why would Djaq behave that way? She's been one of us long enough to know how and why we do things."

"Yeah but it _is_ strange." Much said.

"What is?" Will asked.

"That we never see you two fight." Much replied with a shrug.

"Maybe they fight in _private_." Allan suggested, nudging Will with his elbow.

"Maybe it's none of our _business_." John said pointedly.

"Come on, Will. Enlighten us. What's your secret?" Robin asked in an amused voice. "How do you make your wife listen to you?"

"I'll wager that it's the other way around." Allan laughed. "It's _Will_ who listens to _her_."

"Yeah, I bet you're right. He always did follow her around like a little puppy anyway. So maybe now she's trained him." Much said.

"Oh! Good one." Allan slapped Much's back.

"Ow!"

"Is that what it is Will? Is that the secret to a happy marriage, then? Has your wife got _you_ trained or is it the other way around?" Robin prodded, grinning.

Rather than becoming flustered as the gang had expected, Will took a moment to think about it and then answered simply. "You don't think I know what you guys are doing? You want to get me to say that Djaq does as I tell her so that you can bring it up in front of her and have your fun at my expense. Well, sorry to disappoint you, but I freely admit that I can't _make_ Djaq do anything. And I wouldn't try."

"Well I don't blame you. She's scary!" Much said.

"She's not _scary_, Much. She just expects to be trusted to make her own choices...like _anyone_ would. And I _do_ trust her. She knows what she's doing. But if there was ever something that was important to me...something I didn't want her doing, I'd _ask_ her not to do it, I'd explain my reasons, and she'd listen. Because she trusts me too. So maybe _that's_ the secret to a happy marriage."

"My my. You're so full of manly wisdom, Will Scarlett." Robin mocked. "Shame that I still remember you running around in your nappies." He laughed, ruffling Will's hair.

"Very funny." Will was unamused.

"What's funny is you thinking Djaq would ever do what you tell her." Much said.

"Yeah. Even if you asked _nicely_." Allan quipped.

"Yeah, whatever. Think what you want." Will replied with a wave of his hand.

"So are we gonna stand around here all day?" Allan demanded.

"Allan's right." Robin said. "Work is over. It's time for fun! Let's go lads."

* * *

"Here it is!" Marian called excitedly.

"Shh!" Djaq admonished. "Are you sure?"

"Sorry." She said, dropping her voice, but still sounding excited. "But yes, I found it! There are actually three loose ones right next to each other. Come here, help me."

Djaq carefully climbed down off of her crate and pushed it over to where Marian was frantically rocking a stone back and forth trying to ease it out of its position in the wall. She quickly got work helping her, both women trying hard to ignore the loosened gravel that was continuously being brushed into their hair and eyes while they worked.

"It feels...as if...it has not been moved...in ages." Djaq grunted quite a while later as she scrabbled her now torn and bloodied fingers into the crevices along the sides of the stone. "There!" She exclaimed as Marian seemed to at last make some progress. "That's it! Pull!"

The first of the stones finally slid out of its place and Marian carefully set it aside. "The others should be easier now." Marian took a deep breath and then resumed. She couldn't believe that they'd been stuck down there for the better part of the day when escape was just a few stones away. She knew, though, that time was not on their side and it was only either by extreme chance or some sort of divine miracle that Guy had yet to come down after them.

The other stones, while difficult, came out much more quickly than the first and the two of them immediately set to digging through the layer of earth that now filled the space that must have once been clear enough to allow for frequent passage. They were covered in soil and had to stop a great many times in order to use their hands to muffle the constant choking coughs produced by the dirt that now filled their lungs. They stood on tip toes and clawed their hands through the final remnants of their prison, widening it as much as possible to ensure that they would not get stuck once they started climbing through.

"We must be very careful now. We do not know who may be around up there." Djaq cautioned.

"Oh Djaq! I see daylight! I never thought I would be so happy to see the outside again." Marian exclaimed happily as they cleared away the last of the dirt. But then, at the look on Djaq's face, she fell silent.

She understood immediately.

While Marian could probably force her body through the small space, enduring the bruises, scrapes and scratches that were likely to accompany such an endeavor, there was no way on earth that Djaq would ever be able to get her belly through such a flat opening. No matter how much they dug, the remaining stones were immovable and they would never be able to widen the slot enough to accommodate her.

"We'll just...we'll find some other way out." Marian tried her best to sound hopeful despite the fact that her heart had fallen into her stomach. "We...we didn't expect to find _this_, and it just came to us. So if we wait and think very hard, I'm sure we'll come up with something else...something better."

"No. No this is the closest to freedom we are likely to get. You can fit through, Marian. You must go—"

"I am _not_ leaving you here, Djaq. So don't even think about it!" She said sternly.

"If you _stay_, we both face death and who knows what else."

"But we'll face it _together_." She replied tearfully. "You wouldn't even be down here if it weren't for me and my impulsiveness. You didn't abandon _me_, and I will _not_ abandon _you_. So please don't ask me to."

"You have to. It is the only way that either of us will have a chance. Get to Will and he and the others will get me out."

"But you could be discovered while I'm gone. It's too dangerous. You can't even risk a fight in your condition. Instead of leaving you and going so far, I could crawl out of here, sneak back into the main house and open the basement door to let you out. Then we can make a run for it together and—"

"Please just listen to me, Marian. We haven't much time. For once, just please _listen_ and do as I ask. You have no idea what is awaiting you inside of the main house. We do not know who locked us down here or who has been made aware of our presence. You could end up captured or worse and I would _still_ be down here. But if you leave now and borrow a horse as I instructed earlier, you can get to Will and the others in no time. _They_ will figure out a way to get me out of here and then we will _both_ be free. Please. _Please_, Marian. It is our best chance of escaping with our lives. Now go. Hurry."

Marian started to protest, but realized that she had done far too much of that lately. She loathed the thought of leaving Djaq behind, but also knew the logic behind her words.

It had to be done.

And so with a shaky hug and tear-filled eyes, she bid Djaq goodbye with a promise to return as soon as possible. Then she cautiously—but determinedly—forced herself through the opening in the direction of freedom. _Her_ freedom. As she painfully pulled her body through the other side, she fought the pounding fear in the back of her mind that told her she would never again see her friend alive.

* * *

A/N: I know what you're thinking. What kind of writer leaves our beloved heroine locked in a basement two chapters in a row? Well, what can I say? ::SHRUG:: I'm evil.

I really hope that this chapter worked for everyone. I had a reason for breaking it up between the gang and the Marian/Djaq sections. I really wanted to keep the gang stuff relatively light so as to create a distinct contrast with what I _hope_ turned out to be very dark and ominous Marian/Djaq scenes. I wanted to underscore the fact that the gang was rather happy-go-lucky and completely clueless as to what had befallen the women while the women were basically losing all hope. I'm not convinced it worked out the way I'd planned, though. Hence this _lonnnggg_ explanation. =) Anyway, tell me what you think.

On a happier note (at least for me!): Drum roll, please...there are nearly _**100**_ reviews to this story! Yippie! I had no idea that people would be so very kind and encouraging about this story when I started, especially when it began with so much angst and unhappiness. So a BIG thank you to EVERYONE who has been kind and gracious enough to let me know that they're reading along.

So I thought that, maybe, I could do something nice for the 100th reviewer. So if you happen to be the person who ends up leaving the 100th review, I'll either write you a very special RH one-shot (you pick the characters, theme, plot, etc. and I'll write it and post it with a BIG dedication to you...all in your honor), or I have an OC coming up (in _this_ story) who will be involved with Allan romantically and you can choose the character's name or even name it after yourself if you like (It's a small part in the story, but I know that there are some Allan lovers out there). So you decide which you prefer. Now, of course, if nobody reviews this chapter I'll be very embarrassed and we can just forget this conversation ever took place. =)

Review? (Virtual hugs to _all_ my reviewers, regardless of _what_ number you are!)


	25. Safe

**A/N:** Thank you to Wenrom31, rohwyn, TinyToes, and bkwrm for reviewing the previous chapter. To bkwrm, especially, for leaving the 100th review to this story and for choosing the name and attributes of Allan's new lady friend, Rebecca.

**Safe**

Robin and the gang were returning from Clun and Nettlestone in very good spirits. The sun was shining, their deliveries had all gone well and so the hard-working villagers who depended on them had the help they would need in order to get through another few days, and the gang had even come up with a possible solution for handling the Marian situation. In short, life was good.

"Catch up with 'ya later then." Allan said as they approached the road to Nottingham Castle, where he would part from the rest of the group.

"I don't get it, Allan." Will said. "What's so special about the girls in the kitchen? It seems like every time I turn around these days you're running off to the castle."

"What? I like kitchen girls." Allan replied. "They're nice, they always seem to find a few scraps to spare, and they're privy to all the castle gossip."

"I thought that tavern girls were a little more your speed, Allan. They always seem so much more eager to—"

"_Robin_!" Much scolded.

"I was going to say _socialize_, Much." Robin grinned.

"Yeah, well maybe I'm not only looking for _eager_ these days," Allan answered.

The gang all looked at him quizzically for a moment and then laughed heartily at his joke.

Only...he wasn't exactly joking.

Not that he was opposed to a little eagerness in a woman. Hell, the time was when that was _all_ he'd been looking for. But lately, things had changed.

Fiery red hair and stormy hazel-brown eyes danced through his mind...mocking him.

He wasn't sure how or when—although he had his suspicions—but he'd kinda started to want..._more_. Or at least he'd started to think that maybe _more_ was possible. He knew that the others would laugh even harder, though, if he tried to explain it. So he laughed along and said nothing.

Suddenly all laughter stopped when Robin said, "What the...Oh don't tell me."

Everyone turned to look in the direction he was staring.

"Is that Marian?" Much asked, although they could all see that it was, indeed, Marian riding towards them.

"She _didn't_!" Robin said angrily.

"Looks like she did, mate." Allan replied.

"I specifically ordered her to go with Djaq and meet us at the camp later on! Will the woman never learn? How is it possible for anyone to be so obsti—" Robin abruptly stopped when Marian got closer and he saw the state she was in.

Her clothes were torn and smeared with blood and she was absolutely filthy. She was crying and riding so fast that she could barely keep herself up in the saddle.

"Robin! Oh Robin! Thank God I found you!" She dismounted before the horse even came to a complete stop. Once free of its rider, the horse immediately turned around and galloped off, presumably back to its owner.

The gang rushed toward Marian with Robin in the lead. He grabbed her and pulled her close. She was shaking violently. "Marian, what in God's name happened to you? You're hurt. Who—"

"No, not me." She managed to choke out. "_I'm_ fine. It's Djaq!"

"What _about_ Djaq?" Will demanded as he instinctively reached for the axe at his waist. He could feel his blood start to run cold as fear wrapped its clammy hands around his heart.

"Oh Will! I'm _so_ sorry!" Marian sobbed.

_Djaq was dead..._Allan had the distinct impression that someone had just reached into his chest and torn his heart out. He squeezed his eyes shut but all he could see were her laughing eyes and playful smile. How could they have let this happen? Had she been captured? Probably tortured if _Marian's_ appearance was anything to go by. He felt sick. How much had she suffered?

Had she remained characteristically strong and stubborn until the end? Refusing to give up their stupid secrets? Or had she begged for her life and the life of her unborn child? He knew then that if it took him the rest of his life, he would find whoever was responsible for taking her life and he would make them pay. If Djaq was gone then what was the point of _anything_?

Allan's attention was immediately drawn to the strangled whimper that had been the only sound so far uttered by the man beside him. _Will_...

"Wh...what?" Much stammered. "It...it can't be." Not Djaq. She...she _couldn't_ be dead. He'd just seen her this morning. She'd been eating her breakfast...and...and quietly talking to her belly. And now she was...

"No!" John shook his head. "_No_!" He balled his fists and railed at the heavens in a voice that shook with rage and despair.

"Marian, how?" Robin tried to calmly ask what the others must be thinking, but he was stunned and the hoarseness of his voice reflected that. He was also torn between grieving for Djaq and being incredibly relieved that the woman in his arms had somehow escaped the same fate and was still alive—and he felt horrible for it.

"No. Oh no. I'm sorry. She's not...she's not dead." Marian amended quickly, realizing her mistake and what they must be thinking. "Oh I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to make you think...but she's...she's _trapped_." Marian explained through her tears.

"Trapped _where_?" Robin asked, his instincts kicking in once he realized Djaq was alive. His gang needed him to focus and be strong. He _knew_ that, wherever she was, they would get her back. He never allowed himself to forget the last time she'd been captured...the time the Sheriff had held her at the castle not long after she'd joined them...the time he'd let her and the rest of them down so badly. He'd vowed that it would _never_ happen again!

Marian began to offer a very quick explanation for where Djaq was, including how and why they'd ended up trapped, how _she'd_ managed to get out—accounting for her current disheveled appearance—and also why Djaq hadn't. Everyone was incredibly relieved to hear that Djaq was, at least, alive; but they were also extremely worried as they listened to Marian describe the predicament she was in.

But Will _wasn't_ listening.

He hadn't heard a word that'd been spoken by anyone since Marian had sobbed that she was sorry. _Djaq was dead_. That was all he knew. She was dead and he may as well just lie down and join her. He'd failed her. Her and their child. He'd failed them both. They were his family and he should've kept them safe. That was suppose to be his _job_.

He'd been a fool. Walking around feeling so mature and so very proud of himself for letting _Djaq_ decide everything for herself. 'Enlightening' the others as to how a good husband behaved toward his wife. Trusting _her_ to keep herself out of danger. Trusting that she would keep herself and their baby _safe_. But how _could_ she when he'd kept them trapped in a life fraught with danger? Where they lived every _day_ as hunted animals? What kind of an existence _was_ that for them? They'd deserved _so much better_.

He'd known that this life wasn't safe for a family but he'd simply chosen to ignore it. He'd figured they could handle it. But he now knew that he should've taken her far away from Nottingham _months_ ago. He should have taken her to Scarborough...or somewhere else. Anywhere. He shouldn't have stopped her from going back to the Holy Land when she'd first told him she was carrying his child.

_Oh...his child... _

He'd been wrong to guilt her into staying. He knew that now. He should have let her leave. He would've missed her and it would've broken his heart to be without her everyday and to miss their child growing up...but at least they would be alive. _Alive_.

But she was _dead_.

That was all his mind could process. That he would never see her again. He couldn't possibly go _on_ without her. Not now that he knew how it felt to be _loved_ by her. To feel the warmth of her arms around him. To feel her cling to him when they made love. To look deep into her eyes and see..._everything_.

But he hadn't deserved her. Plain and simple. If he had, he would've protected her better. Instead he thought that he could have it all...Stay with Robin...fight for justice...be with Djaq...keep their baby safe...but he should've put them _first_. He didn't.

And so he'd lost them both.

All his thoughts began swimming together and nothing made any sense. Everything was blurry, sounds were muffled, he couldn't feel his hands and feet anymore. It was all...becoming..._nothingness_. He thought he could feel himself swaying...or maybe he was floating...

Then suddenly the ground tilted on its side and rushed up to meet him.

But before the expected impact, he was grabbed, tightly, and he heard a voice that he knew he was suppose to recognize.

"Hey hey. I gotcha. It's alright. You're alright." It was Allan. Allan was holding him upright and speaking soothingly...but he sounded so _very_ far away. "Take a deep breath and calm down. We're gonna get her out. Nothing's gonna happen to her. _Nothing_."

"She...she's dead, Allan." Came Will's feeble and mindless reply from somewhere inside of himself. "Djaq's dead."

"No! No she's _not_. I _promise_ you she's not! We just have to get to her, that's all." Allan was incredibly worried about his friend. He was, of course, also extremely worried about Djaq. More than he would even let on. But he'd seen the look on Will's face when Marian had blurted out that she was sorry.

Allan never wanted to see that look again as long as he lived. Even now, when he was trying to tell Will that Djaq was alive but she needed their help, he wasn't sure that there was enough of Will _left_ in there to hear him or to understand. Allan remembered all too well Will's reaction when his father had been killed, and this must be _so_ much worse.

"Snap out of, Will." Robin was saying gently but firmly. "Djaq's in trouble and she needs us. She needs you to focus and not fall apart. Okay?"

Will nodded his head slowly and tried to process what was being said all around him. "She's _alive_?" Was all he could manage to get out.

"_Yes_! But we have to get to Locksley Manor and make sure she's safe." Robin answered.

_Djaq was alive_. That was all Will needed to know. _She was alive_. He took off at a run toward Locksley and the others followed.

"Will, please. Wait up. We have to stop and think." Robin cautioned.

But Will only knew that he had to get to her.

"There's no time for that, Robin." Marian warned. "Guy or one of his guards locked us down there for who knows what purpose and they could come back at any time." The others all shuddered at the possibilities.

"No one locked you down there, Marian." Robin insisted impatiently as he jogged to keep up with Will. The others did the same.

"What do you mean? I just explained to you that—"

"That door locks on its own as soon as it closes. It always has. I knew what must have happened as soon as you told us about finding the door locked."

"Robin's right." Much confirmed. "We used to have to put something against the door to keep it from closing whenever anyone went down there. I remember once, when I went out after Robin one night, I forgot to put something in the door for when I came home and I ended up sleeping in the basement until a maid found me in the morning."

"But...why would anyone have a door that locks on its own?" Marian knew that the question was stupid and irrelevant at such a time, but it suddenly seemed so absurd and illogical to her that she and Djaq had spent hours fearing some unseen enemy, only to find out that he didn't really exist.

"I don't _know_, Marian. The basement was probably used as a dungeon of some sort generations ago. It doesn't matter anyway. Djaq is smart and she's got better instincts than most people I know." Robin said with a pointed look at Marian, who met his gaze with a look that she hoped conveyed how truly sorry she was. "So even if someone _does_ end up going down there before we reach her, she'll stay out of sight. No one knows she's there and they _won't_ be looking for her. We'll come up with a plan and we'll get her out."

Almost everyone slowed their pace the tiniest bit upon hearing and considering Robin's statements. They knew that they needed to think and plan before rushing in there and possibly putting Djaq and the baby in further danger.

Robin's words did very little to relieve _Will's_ anxiety, however. Now that he knew that Djaq was alive, his only priority became getting to her and getting her _out_ of there. Now. And it wasn't only the danger posed by Gisbourne or anyone else. It was also the fact that she was stuck down there in the dark...all alone... with no idea how or when she'd be free. He knew how much she _hated_ being closed in. She had never said so, but he _knew_. He'd always known.

He remembered when they had spent that very first night in their new camp, right after it'd been built. She'd laughed and rejoiced and celebrated right along with everybody else, but when the time had come to close the hatch for the night, he'd seen the look of apprehension that briefly flashed behind her eyes. She'd shaken it off almost instantly, and he doubted whether any of the others had even noticed, but _he'd_ noticed. And he'd never forgotten.

Even a couple of months ago, just after they'd reconciled, when they were hiding together in the closet in Djaq's chamber at the castle while they waited for Rashid to bring in the chests of money, Will had sensed how uneasy she was having to keep the door shut while they were in there.

She hadn't _said_ so, but he'd known.

The combination of a small space, darkness, and a closed door was something that Djaq had a very hard time with. And now she'd been trapped in just such a situation for hours and he knew that he had to get to her.

As the group headed in the direction of Locksley, Marian answered everyone's questions and filled in the blanks left by her earlier hasty explanations. Robin gave up on trying to slow Will down and eventually just settled for trying to keep up with him as he and the gang sorted out a plan for the rescue.

"The worst thing we could do would be to storm in there. We'd be putting Djaq directly in harm's way and she's really in no condition to properly defend herself." Robin advised, mostly for Will's benefit.

"But we don't have time for some complicated and intricate plan right now, Robin." Will argued, slowing down at last to face him. "We need to _get_ to her. _Fast_."

"I realize that. And we _will_ get to her. I promise you we will. But it would be much better for everyone if we can figure out a way to get her out of there without a fight breaking out."

"How?" Much asked.

"Yeah. No offense, Robin, but I highly doubt Gisbourne's just gonna stand aside and let us through." Allan said.

"What about a distraction?" John offered.

"Good, John. That's good." Robin said. "A distraction is _exactly_ what we need. But it has to be something that Gisbourne won't associate with us. If thinks _we're_ anywhere nearby while he's got money stashed in his basement, he's going to send guards down to make sure we don't get our hands on it. And that's _precisely_ what we're trying to avoid."

"I could send word to him saying that I've just got back to town and wish to see him." Marian said. "I could ask him to come to Knighton Hall. That would probably draw him away from Locksley long enough to—"

"Absolutely not, Marian." Robin said, shaking his head. "You're going straight to the camp and waiting for me there. I _mean_ it."

"Robin, I know that I've been terribly difficult these last few weeks, and I don't mean to argue with you. _Really_ I don't. But it's all my fault that Djaq's in this mess and I want to do whatever I can to help."

"_You've_ done enough." Will spat.

"Will, I understand how you must be feeling, but this is not the time for blame. All that matters now is getting Djaq out of there safely. And we _will_." Robin counseled with a hand on Will's shoulder. "Marian, we don't have time for this. Please just do as I ask."

John placed a firm but gentle hand on Marian's arm and said, "It's better this way, Lass. Let us take it from here. The best way for you to help Djaq is to do as Robin says."

Marian nodded, raised her hood, and reluctantly turned toward the direction of the camp.

Robin watched her until she was completely hidden by the trees and hoped that she would actually obey him this time. "What about a fire?" he asked, turning back to the gang. "Something small enough that it won't pose any real threat, but will still get Gisbourne's attention."

"The stables." Will said quickly. "We release the horses and start a small fire. The panic and confusion would give me enough time go get in and get Djaq to safety."

"Good, that's good. John, Much and I will deal with the horses and setting the fire. You and Allan concentrate on nothing but getting Djaq out of there. Leave everything else to us." Robin told the pair.

* * *

Djaq waited. That was really all that she could do at this point. Wait. Either wait for Will or Robin or one of the others to come for her...or wait for someone far less welcome to come through that door. She had stood by the wall and listened at the spot where she and Marian had removed the stones for quite a while after Marian had gone, just to reassure herself that Marian had, indeed, gotten away clean without being spotted.

It had been such a relief to have even the tiny bit of sunlight afforded by the small opening in the wall, as the darkness had only served to underscore her hopelessness. But she knew that if someone other than the gang _did_ come down those steps, the last thing she needed was for them to see sunlight streaming in through a gaping hole in the wall. If they didn't already _know_ that she was down there, _that_ would surely be a dead giveaway.

So she had very reluctantly replaced the stones in the wall and the room was immediately plunged into almost total darkness once again. _At least there was still a flicker of light from the torch on the wall_, she reminded herself. Just like there was now the tiniest flicker of hope alive within _her_. Now that Marian had gone for the others, it would only be a matter of time before they showed up.

She knew for certain that nothing on earth could keep them from her. They loved her and she felt confident that they would do everything within their power—and then some—in order to get to her. The only question was whether they would get there before Gisbourne decided what to do with her. _If he was even aware of her presence down there at all._ Djaq was beginning to wonder. So she did the only thing that she _could_ do...she sat with her sword in her hand and she waited for the gang.

And for Will...

She did not want to think about what he must be going through...knowing that she and their baby were in danger. He'd lost so much already and he must be absolutely panicked at the thought of what might be happening to her. She only hoped that he didn't do anything rash...anything that he would regret later.

Prompted by the gentle stirring in her belly, Djaq said softly, "You probably do not mind the darkness at all, do you Little One? I am sure that it is always dark in there where you are and you probably prefer it that way. No?"

She realized with surprise that this was probably the first time that she had spoken to her baby in the English tongue. She did not know why, but it had always seemed almost natural to speak with him or her in Arabic before now. But of course, her baby would be an English baby, after all, and she may as well get used to addressing him or her as such.

"Do you sense my fear? Is that what has you so active in there? Rest assured that I will do everything that I can to protect you. I am sorry for putting us in this situation. I should not have done so. I knew better than to come in here after Marian. I only hope that your father and the others get to us in time."

She sighed and covered her belly protectively with both hands.

"Is it wrong for me to speak to you of my fear? I do not know how this is suppose to work...this _motherhood_ thing. Should I lie to you, Little One? Would that ease your mind? Perhaps good mothers always tell their children that everything will be alright even when they do not feel confident in the truth of such words. Is that what I should do then? I never had a mother of my own. Well, of course I _did_. You must think me foolish for saying such a thing. _Everyone_ has a mother. But mine died when we were still very small. So I do not know what she might have said or done in such a situation as this."

"Now you must not think that we had an unhappy childhood without her. For we did _not_. We did not miss our mother simply because we never _knew_ her. But my father was a great man and a good and caring father. And he _never_ lied to us. He always spoke the truth to us even when it was unpleasant...even brutal. He believed that we could only be prepared for something if we knew the truth of what we faced. And he was right. So I will speak to you in the same manner, for it is the only way that I know."

Djaq wondered how long it had been since Marian had gone for help. Surely, if all had gone well for her, someone would have been there by now.

"I am worried about what will become of your father if he does not reach us in time. He has lost so much already...and he loves us so very much. That is something that I do not have to tell _you_ about, am I right? Surely you must know how much your father adores you. He has not even met you yet and already he lives everyday for you. Surely you must sense that whenever he speaks to you in there. Yes?" She smiled as she thought about Will's habit of talking to the baby and making plans with him or her for all of the things they would do together once he or she was born.

"We are both so fortunate to have him in our life, Little One. Do you know, there was a time when I _feared_ his love. Is that not the most foolish confession that you have ever heard? But I have learned a great deal from him since then and I now know that love does not weaken you...it helps you to be strong. Like now. We must be strong for _him_. He needs for us to get through this. He can not lose us."

She shook her head and tried to get rid of her feelings of worry over Will.

"Yes, your father has lost many loved ones just as I have. But he still has a brother that you will meet one day. His name is Luke and your father loves him very much. Brothers are very special, you know. And we also have a whole family now that almost makes up for our losses. You will meet all of them soon enough as well. Though I suspect that you have already heard more of them than you care to at times, even from in _there_. They can be quite loud, I know. But they are good and kind and brave and they will love you almost as much as your father and I do. Of that I am certain."

She leaned her head closer to her stomach and said in a quiet voice, "I know how we may pass the time. I will tell you a bit about each of them so that the next time that you hear them speaking you will know who is saying what. Let me see. There is Allan, of course. He is _very_ special. He is funny and brave and he tells _terrible_ jokes and stories that make everyone roll their eyes. And he can talk anyone _into_ or _out_ _of_ anything he wishes. That may sound like a bad thing to you right now, but one day you will find that such a talent can be very useful. Allan is the kind of man who will surprise you and even himself with his goodness and you will love him just as _I_ do, I am certain. From him, you will learn the value of loyalty and friendship."

"And then there is Robin. Robin _Hood_, as he is known to most. He is our leader and a better man there never was. He is much like your grandfather..._my_ father. My father was also a man who believed in _people_ more than rules. Who helped those in need even at great cost to himself. Robin is skilled with a bow and he is the kind of man whom people naturally choose to follow. He is also proud and hopelessly daring, but he would lay down his life to prevent the suffering of others and you will grow to respect and admire him. And from him, you will learn the importance of determination and that even just a few people, if they are willing to stand up for something, can make a huge difference in the world."

"And Much, of course. He is the one who is always fussing over whether or not I am eating enough. He talks a lot about food, you will find. But I suspect that it is not really food that he craves, but rather security. He has not had that in a very long time and I think that food is his way of reminding himself of simpler days. He is also kind and brave...and you must be very nice to him for he is a sensitive sort. Often we tease him but you must not think that we love him less because of that. He is a good man and he cares for all of us very much...especially Robin. From him you will surely learn great compassion for all people."

"Then there is John. _Little_ John he is called, although he is anything _but_ little, you will find. He is a giant bear of a man and he may seem rather frightening to you at first, but you will soon find that he is gentle and kind and that he cares for others even more than he cares for himself. That is a rare thing to find in a man. He once had a family of his own, but he lost them. Not in the way that I did, or your father did. _His_ family has simply moved on without him and I sometimes wonder if that might not be worse for him to live with. So there is often a sadness to him. But he is good and you will come to rely upon him and learn from him the value of sacrifice."

Djaq heard the door creak open and she jumped to her feet with her sword at the ready. She stepped back into the shadows and tried to silence her ragged breathing and her pounding heart.

"_Djaq_?"

"Will!" She sheathed her weapon as she ran from her hiding place and was happier than she had ever been to see Will and Allan bounding down the steps, taking four at a time, toward her.

Relief flooded through her as two pairs of strong arms enveloped her and held her close. Allan muttered incoherently into her hair—words of comfort and reassurance—although whether to her, Will, or himself, she was uncertain. Will did _not_ speak, and only held her securely against his chest. Between the two of them she was hugged so tightly that she nearly couldn't breathe. But she did not mind at all.

"We'd better get outta here." Allan said after just a few seconds as he released her and headed carefully back up the steps. Will still said nothing, only wrapped his arm protectively around her shoulder and led her out.

It was hard to tell in the darkness, but she could just make out the fear in his eyes. But it was _more_ than fear. "I am alright," she whispered, to which he nodded stoically.

As they came out into the main part of the house, it was hard to see because her eyes had grown accustomed to the dark and she now found the light rather blinding. She could smell smoke and hear the panicked and angry voices of people shouting in the distance. Will and Allan seemed barely to notice and knew exactly where to go as they steered her through the house and out the back door.

She was safe.

Once they had reached the outside, Djaq turned to inquire after Marian and the others but before any words could pass her lips, Will bent down and slid one arm behind her knees, with the other just beneath her arms and around her back. He gently hoisted her up in his arms, being careful not to jostle her, as if she weighed no more than a child—although she was certain that she must be quite heavy for him in her current condition. She was startled by the gesture and even more so when he whisked her swiftly away from Locksley Manor, a worried Allan, and all of the commotion going on around them and instead carried her off in what she assumed was the direction of the forest.

She wrapped her arms about his neck and clung to him, worried over his demeanor. "Will? Where are we going?...Where are the others?...I am perfectly able to walk, you know....Are you _alright_?"

No answer.

In fact, she hadn't heard him say a word since calling her name at the top of the basement steps. When they'd reached what he seemed to feel was an appropriate spot within the safety of the forest, he gently put her down, dropped to his knees in front of her, buried his face against her belly, and sobbed like a lost child.

"I thought I lost you...I thought I lost you," he repeated over and over again through his tears.

Djaq sunk down to the ground with him, placing her arms firmly around his body and she held him, kissing his face, as he wept. "I am here now. It's alright. I am here now and everything is fine."

She did not know what else to say. She had expected him to be _relieved_ or even perhaps angry with her for getting into such a situation, but she hadn't expected this. Her heart broke for him and all that he must have suffered. The practical side of her wanted to tell him that there was no cause for tears. That she and the baby were safe and that everything had worked out in the end.

But the side of her that was ruled more and more often by her emotions these days silently scolded her for such limited thinking and instead understood all too well what he must be feeling. If their situations had been reversed...if _he_ had been the one in danger, she knew that she would have stayed strong and fought with all of her might to get to him, but that afterwards—once she no longer had to focus on saving him and being strong—she would have broken down just as he was doing and wept for all that she almost lost.

After what seemed like an eternity—and oceans of tears shed—he finally kissed her belly and looked up at her through red and swollen eyes. His crying had subsided and was reduced to a few infrequent sniffles. "I'm sorry," he offered softly.

"Do not apologize, my love. I understand. I can only imagine what it was like for you," she said, placing gentle kisses on his cheeks and eyelids.

"You shouldn't have to comfort _me_, though. _You_ were the one stuck down there all day. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I should be comforting _you_. Are you alright?" he asked, looking her over.

"I am fine. I _promise_ you that I am."

"You're all dirty," he said, as if seeing her properly for the first time since rescuing her. "And your hands are all cut up." He tried to wipe some of the dirt from her face, but only succeeded in smearing it further. He kissed her fingers and shook his head at the myriad of little cuts and scratches they displayed.

"From the digging. But it is of no consequence." She ran a hand through his hair and tried to soothe him as best she could. "You found me before Gisbourne could come for me. That is all that matters."

"I don't think he was ever coming. At least not for you and Marian." He sniffled as he attempted to shake some of the dirt out of her hair. "Robin said that door locks on its own. So no one probably even knew you two were down there."

"Oh." She thought for a moment. "That explains quite a lot, actually."

"But still, someone would have come down _eventually_, and who knows _who_ it might've been. And you would have been trapped down there until they did. I'm so sorry." He shook his head.

"What for? None of this is your fault."

"I should have protected you better."

"Nonsense!" she told him. "This was _not_ your doing. You said yourself that the door locks on its own. So it was all a big accident, nothing more."

"We have to get away from here," he said suddenly, surprising her.

"What? From where?"

"From here. From _here_! Nottingham," he said as he frantically gestured, indicating the area around them. "We'll pack up tonight and leave at first light."

"Why? What has happened?"

"What has—? Djaq, are you _mad_? You almost _died_ today. I should never have let you stay here. I should have taken you away from here _months_ ago. We'll go someplace and start over. Someplace safe where we can have a normal life."

"Will, this is not the best time to make such a decision. You are still shaken over what has happened and you are not in your right state of mind. Let us calm down and think this through."

"There's nothing to think about." He said firmly. "We're going and that's it. I won't risk your life or the baby's again."

"Just stop and think for—"

"_No_ Dammit! Why won't you listen to me? _Why_ won't you let me take care of you? I love you so much, Djaq. Why can't you just let me protect you like I'm suppose to?" His voice was strained and his eyes were wild.

"What are you talking about? You _do_ take care of me. I know that you love me and I love _you_. You are not making sense. Please just calm down and let us talk this over."

"The others were right. They were _right_. You won't listen to me...even when I'm only trying to do what's _best_ for us."

"What others? I do not understand what you are saying, Will. Of _course_ I will listen to you. Am I not always willing to hear anything that you have to say? But you are overreacting. I know that you are upset...that you must have been very frightened, but let us not make more of this than it is."

"Upset? _Upset_? Frightened? _I thought you were dead, Djaq!" _he shouted._ "_I thought you were dead and all I could think of was how I'd failed you and the baby. Of how I would never get to hold you again...or see our child born. I'm more than _upset_." His voice cracked.

"Oh." Was all she could say. She had been very worried about his reaction to hearing that she was in trouble but she had never even considered that he might have believed that she had died. Poor Will. She leaned in and kissed him tenderly, hoping to reassure him that she was alive and real and still with him.

He hesitated for a spit second and then slowly yielded to her mouth as it moved gently over his. They fit together so perfectly and just the soft brush of her lips against his or the light touch of her tongue brought him unimaginable comfort. So he momentarily let himself get lost in her.

After a moment of opening himself up to her kiss, though, Djaq felt him stiffen as he abruptly broke apart from her and pushed her forcibly away from him.

"Don't _do_ that!" he said angrily.

"What? Why?" She was hurt and confused.

"It's not fair. You know how much I love you...how much I've _always_ loved you. Don't you _dare_ you use my love for you as a weapon against me, Djaq."

"Is _that_ what you think that I was doing?" she asked in a voice that trembled with anger and hurt.

"That's what it felt like. You don't like what I have to say so you kiss me in the hope that I'll give in and do things _your_ way," he said without meeting her eyes.

"How _dare_ you!"

A part of her wished for nothing so much as to slap his face at that moment, so stung was she by his venomous words. For most of her life, her reaction to hurt had always been anger, and it took great effort to remind herself that he had been through a terrible ordeal today as well, and that while _she_ had been frightened and had even felt hopeless at times, she had also known that she was, for the moment at least, _safe_. _He'd_ had no such assurances about her safety and had, in fact, believed her to be dead already.

So she knew that he was speaking out of fear and she calmed herself and readied herself to try to reason with him. _After all, _she told herself, _this is what happens when you open yourself up to someone completely._ _They have the power to hurt you in ways that no one else ever could._

She took a very deep breath.

"I would never use your love for me as a weapon, _Will_," she spoke his name as if it were a curse. "If you really want to leave Nottingham, then we will go. I have no idea where you think that we could go and have a normal life together, but I would go _anywhere_ with you. I mean that. All I was saying was that we should not decide something so important while our feelings over today's events are still so _fresh_. I merely asked you to calm down and to let us take a few days to discuss everything properly." She tried to let reason and rational thought guide her where her emotions threatened to take over.

Will didn't respond. He only looked at her guiltily.

"When you told me that you thought that I had died, I felt horrible inside at the thought of what that must have been like for you and I only wanted to _comfort_ you. So I kissed you. I love you and I wanted to be close with you while you were hurting. Perhaps it was the wrong thing to do in the middle of such a serious discussion. If so, then I am sorry. I cannot bear to see you in pain and it was my instinct to reach out to you. That is all."

"I—" He began.

"But you have no _right_ to accuse me of trying to trick you or to distract you or whatever you were implying. I have never given you any reason to speak to me in such a way. I have been more open with you and shared more of myself with you than I ever have been with _anyone_...even more than I have been completely comfortable with at times, and I do _not_ deserve that."

"I'm sorry. You're right and I'm sorry." He took her face gently in his hands and he kissed her softly.

He could tell that, while she allowed the kiss and didn't pull away, she was not completely committed to it either. She was obviously still hurt over the cruel things he'd said and he really couldn't blame her.

She'd spent the afternoon terrified of either being discovered by their enemies or facing starvation in a locked basement. She'd then had to comfort _him_ once she'd been freed, and then he had behaved like an irrational child and accused her of not listening to him and trying to have her own way. He'd been very unfair to her and he knew it.

"I love you and I _am_ sorry." He repeated. "I still want to leave here, but you're right, we can discuss all of that later. Right now, let's get you cleaned up and fed. You must be hungry by now."

He stood and offered her his hand which she took, not so much in affection, as for the simple fact that she could not get up without assistance. But once she was standing, she held tightly to it and entwined their fingers as they walked toward the camp.

* * *

Meanwhile, after Allan had informed the rest of the gang that Djaq was safe and that Will had taken her off to the forest, they had all been able to get away from Gisbourne's house without further incident. They were now back at the camp with Marian and were engaged in various ways of trying to recover from the day's harrowing events.

"It's not fair, though." Much was saying—and not for the first time. "She doesn't just belong to _Will_, you know. She belongs to _all_ of us."

"I think that's the dumbest thing you've ever said." John told him as he cleaned his boots and tried to ignore the tension around him.

"Djaq doesn't _belong_ to anyone, Much. She's a person and she belongs only to herself." Marian said. "And I'm sure that Will just wanted some time alone with her, that's all. He _is_ her husband and he was worried about her today."

"Well _I_ was worried too! Maybe _I_ might like some time with her, or John or Allan might. Or Robin. Will had no right to just pick her up and carry her off that way. Djaq doesn't like anyone fussing over her like that anyhow, you know. She's very independent."

"Then maybe you should stop doing it before she comes back and yells at you for it," Allan said. Much had been going on this way since they'd returned and Allan was starting get a headache.

"I'm _not_ fussing. I'm just saying that Will shouldn't be so selfish is all. Djaq and the baby probably haven't eaten anything since lunch and she must be hungry by now." Much knew that everyone made fun of him for worrying over Djaq getting enough to eat. But they just didn't _understand_ her the way that he did.

He knew that she was the type of person who would try to make sure that everyone had what they needed from her before she ever looked after herself. That was her way. People rarely had to ask her for anything because she almost always volunteered before they got the chance. She would never tell Will that she wanted to go back to camp because she was hungry, Much knew that. And he knew that _he_ needed to make sure that she and the baby were healthy. It was important.

"Will won't let her starve, Much. Try to relax," Marian said with what she hoped was soothing smile.

"I'll relax when she's back," he answered in a huff.

"Then worry _quietly_! Because I, for one, am _sick_ of hearing it." Robin ordered. "And Marian, just leave him be! He likes to fret over things...it makes him feel like he's helping."

Robin had been more shaken by the day's events than he had so far let on to the others. They had almost lost one of their own today. Well, _two_ of their own. It was just dumb luck that Much had mentioned those loose stones to Djaq and that she'd remembered. Otherwise, who knows what would have become of her and Marian. If Gisbourne would have found them hiding down there, he wouldn't have stopped to ask questions. Despite Marian's frequent arguments to the contrary, Robin didn't doubt for a moment that the man was a brutal and ruthless killer.

For the past couple of weeks Robin had been frustrated over Marian's constant attempts to do things her own way, but he hadn't really seen her behavior as anything more than inconvenient and aggravating. It had never occurred to him that she might get herself into a situation where her life would be in jeopardy. And, what was worse, she had put Djaq and her baby in jeopardy as well. Robin knew how protective the lads were over Djaq now that she was pregnant and he feared that, despite their fondness for Marian, today's fiasco might just create added tensions within the group.

And he didn't know if he'd be able to smooth things over for her with them. Or if she'd even _want_ him to. Obviously the whole idea of Marian coming out to the forest with him had been a bad one from the start. But Sir Edward would be gone for weeks still—perhaps even longer—and Robin did not want Marian to feel unwelcome for the duration of her stay.

"May I say something?" Marian began.

Everyone stopped and gave her their full attention.

"I've been waiting for someone to bring up what happened today. To confront me on my actions and my poor judgment. I at least expected you, Robin, to have something to say. But, clearly, no one is going to, so I may as well start the conversation myself."

"Marian, maybe this is something that should wait." Robin advised.

"No." John said. "Let her speak if she has something to say."

To Robin's surprise, Marian looked at him for approval before continuing. He nodded.

"Thank you. I actually thought that I should wait until Will and Djaq got back before saying this, but seeing as—"

"We're here." Will announced.

"Oh." Marian suddenly felt very apprehensive. The last words she had exchanged with Will had not been pleasant ones and, judging by the look on his face, he was still rather angry.

The rest of the gang seemed to have just as much apprehension over Will's demeanor as Marian. Perhaps they were remembering his murderous reaction to his father's death...or perhaps it was the way in which he'd carried Djaq off without a word to anyone...or perhaps it was simply the fact that he looked as if one wrong word from someone might unleash a fury from him that no one was particularly keen to deal with.

"You alright?" John asked, although whether he was asking Will, Djaq or both was unclear.

Djaq nodded.

"H-Have you eaten?" Much asked her.

"No Much and I am quite hungry, actually. But I wish to bathe first and then I will return and eat something, alright?" Much nodded. "Go ahead, Marian. We did not mean to interrupt what you were saying."

"I just wanted to say how sorry I am. Not only for today, but for the way I've been acting. I haven't adjusted to this life nearly as well as I'd expected, and I know that I've made things rather difficult. I want all of you to know that I get it now. All of the planning and teamwork and all of that. I understand why someone has to be in charge and why everyone else has to follow. I didn't get it, but I _do_ now. And things will be different from now on. You have my word."

"Luckily, no one was hurt today, so I think we can all accept this as a lesson learned and just move on." Robin said, looking at Will hopefully.

"Will, I know how upset you are and I don't blame you." Marian said.

"Robin's right, I suppose. No one was hurt this time. I know you wouldn't do anything to hurt Djaq or anyone else deliberately. I was scared earlier and I just wanted to get to Djaq. I'm sorry if I wasn't as kind as I could've been." Will said.

Djaq was curious as to what had transpired between Will and Marian, but she decided that she would leave it to Will to bring up if he wanted her to know.

"Thank you, Will." Marian said. "You can't even imagine how relieved I am to see you, Djaq." And she got up and hugged the other woman, startling her.

"I am relieved to see you as well." Djaq said, patting Marian's back awkwardly. "I see that you have already gotten cleaned up. I need a wash very badly myself."

"I'll get your soap and stuff." Will offered.

"And I'll put your supper on to warm up." Much said.

"I may have something you can put on after your bath instead of those." Marian said, indicating Djaq's dirty clothes. And she went to rummage through her stash of forest clothes—which numbered far greater than Djaq's did even _before_ she had out grown everything.

"Thank you."

"Well, as long as you're back safe and sound, I'm gonna head out. Maybe I can still make the appointment I missed this afternoon." Allan said, earning him a knowing smile from Djaq.

"Have fun." She told him.

"I plan to. I'll be back in time for my watch." And with that he exited the camp.

"Here you are." Marian said, handing Djaq a bundle of clothes. "There's a dress there and a pair of trousers with very loose-fitting laces, so one of them should do at least for today."

"Oh, that reminds me. I forgot to get Matilda's dresses out of Gisbourne's basement. I do not suppose that any of you happened to pick them up when you took the money did you?" Djaq addressed the group.

"The money!" Robin said, slapping his forehead. "In all of the mad rush to distract Gisbourne and get you out of there, we didn't even think about the tax money!"

"Are you serious?" she asked. They all groaned and nodded. "Sorry. Surely Gisbourne has moved the money by now after all of the chaos today. I know how disappointed you must be, Robin."

But Robin waved her concern away. "Nah. Anyone stupid enough to hide money in their basement with outlaws on the loose is just begging for us to rob him," he grinned. "There's always next time."

Djaq looked around at their little group. She knew that she and Will still had a lot to discuss regarding leaving Nottingham, and that his point about their baby being in danger was a valid one. But just for tonight, she allowed herself to enjoy being home...with the people who loved her...where she felt safer than she had in years.

Review?


	26. Family

_**A/N: **_I am truly sorry for the delay in posting this chapter. Without ruining things for anyone out there who has somehow managed to remain spoiler-free regarding Series 3 of Robin Hood, I've been having a very hard time with some aspects of the show and how much that should influence my story. But, thanks to a very inspiring pep talk from the lovely and wonderful _rohwyn_ (BIG HUGS!), I was finally able to get my butt in gear and pull it all together.

By the way, if you haven't checked out her current story, _Passages_, you really should give it a read. It's all about what Will and Djaq are up to in the Holy Land after the end of Series 2 and it's _very_ good! Check it out and then leave her a lovely review. She deserves it.

**Family**

_**This takes place about a month after Marian and Djaq were trapped in Gisbourne's basement...**_

Djaq grasped her sword with both hands and raised it in front of her, struggling somewhat to maneuver around her bulging middle section. She took a deep breath and prepared herself for the battle she faced. She locked eyes with her opponent as she swung her sword.

_Whoosh. Plunk._

It sailed through the air and knocked against his with a hollow thud...he was ready for her. She tried hard not to let what she was feeling show in her eyes. Although _surely_ he could tell. It must have been quite obvious to him that she was having the most fun she'd had in a _very_ long time.

Well, with her clothes _on_ at least.

Djaq stifled a giggle at that last thought. After all, this was not the time for silliness. Oh no. This was a very serious matter. At least it was _supposed_ to be. But sparring with Will was turning out to be nothing like what she'd imagined and she was having the toughest time keeping her mind on her task.

_Swish. Bonk._

She had actually been rather surprised when he'd led her out to a clearing in the forest and handed her one of the wooden practice swords the gang sometimes used for sparring with one another. He'd kept one for himself as well and told her, in no uncertain terms, that he would _only_ do this if she promised not to do anything risky or get too worked up.

Djaq had eagerly agreed, of course. She had been desperate for a sparring partner for months now—seeing as no one in the gang would agree to it now that she was so _very_ pregnant. Even though she'd _explained_ to them that there was no danger to her and that it would be nothing more than some footwork and the occasional swing and block, they had all politely declined...much to her irritation.

Earlier in her term, Much had been a willing opponent and Djaq had enjoyed the exercise as well as the much-needed distraction that such activity had afforded her. But one day, he had simply refused—nervously but adamantly—to fight with her. She had her suspicions that one of the others had given him a hard time about sparring with her in her condition, but she had no idea who. Much refused to say and the men all denied any knowledge of it.

Humph! Men!

Then when Marian had come out to the forest to stay with them, Djaq had thought that she would _finally_ have a willing partner. But as daring as Marian could be at times, she apparently drew the line at wielding a weapon at a pregnant woman. Or perhaps someone had warned her off of it as well. Djaq didn't know. But what she _did_ know was that she was slowly going out of her mind with boredom and lack of activity.

So it was a real surprise to find that Will was amenable to doing this. The fact was that Djaq had never even _thought_ of asking him to spar with her. After all, he'd _never_ done so. Even long _before_ she was with-child.

_Whoomph. Thwack._

The gang had spent many an afternoon honing their skills by challenging each other in just such a way. It helped to keep them fresh and ready for anything that came their way, and it also helped to stave off the boredom when times were slow and quiet. Djaq had often found herself pitted against Much or Allan—seeing as they were skilled with a sword just as she was. Although Robin was, of course, highly skilled with a sword, _he_ seemed to enjoy taking on John for some reason. _Probably because John was three times his size and Robin was a giant show off_, Djaq mused. And so she only ended up facing Robin occasionally. She'd even found herself up against John at times—even though he fought with nothing but that old staff—which had always proved a nice change of pace.

But Will had always flat out refused to go up against her. He'd always said it was because their heights and weapons were so different that it would make no sense. Whenever anyone had pointed out that the same could be said of her and John or the fact that Will seemed to have no problem sparring with anyone _else_—despite size or weapon differences—he would always ignore the argument and stick to his refusal.

Djaq had always assumed that it was because she was a woman and he'd been afraid of hurting her or some such nonsense. That knowledge had made her angry and had always made her even _more_ determined to win against whomever she faced. Which she often had. But after seeing him spar with her today, she suspected that the _real_ reason had nothing to do with him being afraid of harming her.

His concerns were of a very different nature.

Although essentially a fighting exercise, sparring could sometimes end up being a very intimate activity. Not inappropriately so, of course. But even friendly sparring brought opponents into close physical proximity to one another. _Very_ close at times. Pulses raced, faces got flushed and chests heaved. And the more heated the fight became, the greater the chances of some form of contact between the two. Weapons clashed, causing arms and sweaty bodies to touch and sometimes panting opponents got so close to one another that they were breathing the same air. It _could_ be, under just the right circumstances of course, a very provocative experience.

Naturally, Djaq had never found it so. And she didn't think that any of the others had either. But there were no romantic notions there to cloud the issue. It was strictly a contest between comrades. But now that she understood the depth of Will's feelings for her—even way back then—she had no doubt that he must have been well aware of the dangers of getting too close to her. And if she hadn't been completely certain, all she had to do was look at him now to know _exactly_ what was on his mind.

But he was trying to stay focused for her benefit and Djaq was grateful.

She'd really needed this sparring session more than she'd realized. She had felt so bored and stifled ever since her adventure—and she used the term loosely—with Marian in Gisbourne's basement.

It had been unanimously decided, immediately following that event, that Djaq would only venture away from camp if she was in the company of someone else. It made sense to her, seeing as she was completely unable to defend herself from any sort of attack, and so she had agreed without reservation. But it still really hampered her normal activities.

She was used to walking to and from Locksley by herself most of the time and it allowed her the peace and solitude that she craved. It was hard living in such close quarters with the others and each of them found their own ways of getting away from everyone else from time to time. They would all go absolutely _crazy_ if not. For Djaq, it had always been herb-collecting and, more recently, her walks to Matilda's.

But now that was all over. She couldn't even _bathe_ without an escort anymore. Of course, _that_ part wasn't actually so bad considering that her escort was Will and he had proven quite useful at, not only helping her dress and undress, but also many _other_ things as well. Yes, bathing with Will was something she looked forward to. A lot. But she still hated being cooped up in the camp for so much of her time now.

She still went to Matilda's and made rounds with her a few times a week, which she enjoyed, but she could not exactly spend every day at the woman's home. There weren't enough pregnant women to fill all of Djaq's free time. Besides, there was still the matter of having to take someone along for protection.

Sometimes it was Will who accompanied her on such trips and he claimed not to mind at all. But Djaq hated the idea of taking him away from the activities that were important to him and she hated the fact that her current needs left the gang one man short. Well, technically it left them _two_ men short—her and whoever accompanied her—but at least Marian was with them now and that made up for some of it.

Ever since the incident with the basement, Marian had been true to her vow of following orders and trying to do things as they were ordinarily done...rather than spending all of her time and energy trying to fix things that didn't need fixing. And so everything had been going really smoothly in that regard. Marian, though, felt horrible that her actions had led to Djaq now needing a chaperone to accompany her wherever she went. She had _told_ Djaq so numerous times over the past few weeks and Djaq had told her each and every time that it wasn't her fault and that taking someone along for protection was necessary for her now.

And it was. She knew that.

But it was still frustrating and nerve-racking and was slowly but surely driving Djaq completely out of her mind.

Much, as it turned out, was always more than willing to accompany Djaq to Matilda's on days that Will was unavailable or when Djaq insisted Will go ahead with the others. She had assumed it was because Much had always hated the risks that Robin took and so preferred a relatively safe walk to and from Locksley rather than being in constant mortal peril with the gang. He would walk over with her, leave her at Matilda's front door, and then go off to visit his old friends in the village, or drop off some money or food to some needy family, or probably just take some time out for himself for a change.

But he was always ready and waiting for her whenever she was done for the day and, as the two of them made the slow journey back to the camp—Djaq being unable to walk very quickly at all these days—he would ask her a thousand questions about all that she'd done and learned that day. At first it hadn't seemed out of the ordinary. He'd assisted her in surgeries and such on many occasions over the past couple years and he'd always proved to be a very competent assistant. And he'd always seemed rather interested in her knowledge of herbs and their many uses.

But one day, as they walked home from Locksley together, Djaq asked him why he was so interested in all of the midwifery skills she was acquiring. After all, that was certainly not a _man's_ domain. She hadn't really expected him to have much of an answer, and was only really asking in order to give him a bit of a hard time. So she found herself very surprised then when he turned to her and said, in a very matter of fact tone and with a slight shrug, that he thought it would be prudent for someone in the gang besides her to know what to do once her labor began, just in case they couldn't get to Matilda right away.

Djaq had been so unprepared for his answer that she'd actually found herself speechless for one of the few times in her life. But her esteem and even her love for him shot up immeasurably at that moment. To think that he'd accompanied her so willingly not because he'd wanted to stay out of the fray with Robin, but because he wanted to be able to help her if the need arose. She was genuinely touched by his concern and impressed by his forethought. And from then on she had been sharing her newfound knowledge with him happily.

But a few days a week spent doing something she loved was hardly equal to all of the robbing and missions and fighting and deliveries that Djaq was accustomed to filling her days with, and so she found herself short-tempered and easily irritated out of sheer boredom. Well, _that_ and the fact that Matilda had warned her that her moods would become a problem very soon.

And not just for _her_.

Apparently, according to the wise woman, pregnant women have radical and unpredictable shifts in their moods and emotions that can happen at a moment's notice and can be triggered by almost _anything_. At first, Djaq had thought it to be utter nonsense. She couldn't possibly see how merely being with-child could change one's personality and feelings. It really didn't seem very scientifically sound to her.

But, she had to grudgingly admit that she _had_ been extra horrible to everyone quite a lot recently. She always felt terrible afterwards and she wished that there was some way that she could stop herself from lashing out at the others the way she did. The problem was that she didn't _realize_ she was doing it until it was over. Her anger over any given thing always seemed perfectly _justified_ in the moment.

Bland food, loud talking, smelly men, stupid English rain, insensitive comments, ridiculous questions, humorless jokes, uncomfortable trousers, ill-fitting and inconvenient dresses...the list of things that set her off went on and on and she always felt that her reactions were normal and even in character for her.

Until later, that is.

Once she'd had time to think and to cool down, she would realize that she'd behaved badly and then she'd try to make up for it. But the others always acted as if they had no idea what she was on about and said that she had no reason to apologize. They just took whatever she dished out and never complained...much.

They really were much nicer to her than she deserved sometimes and that only succeeded in making her feel guiltier. Plus, it was all compounded by the looks they gave to Will. Poor Will. Djaq had seen the way they looked at him—scowled was more like it—whenever she snapped or shouted or even, occasionally, threw something. It was like they were blaming him for her behavior and silently demanding that he _do_ something about it.

So today, he finally had.

He'd taken her out to spar with him in order to help her work off some of her built up frustrations and she was truly having the best time ever. She felt free and useful and _alive_ once again and it was invigorating. He was very careful, of course, and there was absolutely no danger of her getting hurt. But it still felt satisfying to be able to do something that she'd always taken for granted in the past.

She swung her wooden sword in his direction once again as she released an ear-splitting roar and she was pleased to see that he countered her move with a quick block and a move of his own. Clever man. He was actually pretty good with a sword, as it turned out, and that fact both surprised and pleased her immensely. It also made her heart beat just a little faster every time he twirled his sword in the same way that he always did with his axe.

Mm. He really was beautiful when he fought.

Suddenly he dropped his sword and it landed somewhere near his feet. But before Djaq had time to question what he was doing, he was standing right in front of her, looking down at her through half-lidded eyes that danced with raw desire.

"You're all sweaty." He breathed out heavily.

Her breath caught in her throat at the look on his face. "S-So are you." Was all she could manage as she looked up at him, her pulse quickening at his sudden closeness.

"Yeah." The want in his voice was evident as leaned down and spoke, his lips nearly touching hers. "Let's go wash up in the stream."

She dropped her sword immediately in favor of the hand he offered and toddled after him obediently, unable to resist the smile that spread across her face. She knew that bathing was certainly _not_ all that he had in mind and that it was time for that _other_ kind of fun—the _not having your clothes on_ kind—and _that_ was an activity she was _always_ up for.

* * *

_**A few days later...**_

"Go on. It's your turn." Djaq prodded.

"I'm still trying to decide," Will replied absently while scanning the crowd below.

"How difficult can it _be_, Will? Just _pick_ someone," she huffed.

They were _people watching_ again. Djaq had been in Locksley with Matilda all morning and now the two of them sat, perched on the spot that they now referred to as '_their hill_', looking down over the market while they nibbled on some bread and dates.

"Look. What about _her_? She is interesting," Djaq said, pointing to a woman who was sweeping out one of the stalls.

"Mm. Uh-uh."

"Really, Will. Why must you be so picky?" She sighed.

"Be patient." He said, although he knew the futility of such a request. _Patience_ was one thing Djaq was definitely _not_ known for these days. She'd been moody and grouchy quite a lot over the last few weeks and Matilda had actually pulled him aside, one day when he'd come to fetch Djaq from her house, and warned him that it was likely to get a lot worse before it got better.

He knew she didn't _mean_ to be that way and so did the rest of the gang, but knowing that certainly didn't make her temper any easier to deal with. He sighed and went back to trying to settle on a suitable person to make up a story about.

"Well! Your father has certainly come a long way from being the man who did not think that he would _enjoy_ this game to now being the man who takes an entire _year_ to simply _pick_ someone." Djaq declared pointedly to her belly.

Will had noticed Djaq speaking to her belly in English more and more over the past several weeks and, for some reason, it had bothered him more every time. It was only now that he realized _why_ it'd been troubling him so much.

"I haven't heard you speak to the baby in Arabic lately." He observed in what he hoped was a casual tone.

"No. I suppose that I have gotten into the habit of speaking in English." She answered matter of factly with a shrug.

"Why?"

"I...I do not know." She seemed caught off guard by his question. "It seems to make sense. Our child will be English, after all, and the English tongue will be his or her primary language."

"But that's not _fair_. I don't want you to give up so much of yourself, Djaq."

"Give up myself? I do not understand. What exactly is that supposed to mean?"

"I feel like...I don't know...like you've had to let go of so many aspects of your culture since you've been here. I know that some of that can't really be helped, but still, I don't want you to think that you have to lose so much of who you are." He answered.

"All of this simply because I spoke to the baby in English?" she asked.

"No. Not only because of that. That's just what made me think about it now. But there are other things as well."

"Such as?" she prompted in a voice that he was sure lay somewhere between curiosity and a challenge.

"Like...Well, you never pray anymore. At least, I never _see_ you pray."

"Why should you care about that? What difference could that possibly make to _you_?" she asked angrily. "I _do_ pray. Perhaps not as often as I should, but sometimes it just does not seem important anymore. Besides, I do not think that I have ever seen _you_ pray."

"I say a silent prayer sometimes. But it's different for me because...Look, I'm not trying to fight with you. It's just that when you first came here, you prayed a _lot_. Several times a day. You used to go off by yourself and you told me that you found a quiet spot in the forest where you could face east and you'd say your prayers. You said it brought you strength and peace. But I haven't seen you do that or even _speak_ of Allah in a very long time. I'm not questioning your faith, Djaq," he said when he saw the look that crossed her face. "I just know how important it used to be to you and I worry that you might think you have to give that up because...I don't know, because we're married and I'm English...a _Christian..._and you're living in my land."

She didn't respond.

"Because you don't. Have to give anything up, I mean. I want our child to grow up understanding where you come from and the way you were raised. Your faith is an important part of that. He or she is going to be surrounded by English speakers and Christian rituals and I don't want your beliefs and customs getting lost along the way. I always thought it was sweet that you spoke to the baby in your native tongue. I liked hearing the happiness in your voice. It was like you finally had somebody here that you could share your language with."

"The baby has no knowledge of what I am saying, Will," she said sharply. "So what does it matter _what_ language I speak? Besides, do you not think that it will be confusing to him or her if we use two different languages and practice two different faiths?"

"See? That's just what I mean. Why should _you_ be the one to give up your language and faith?"

"Oh I do not know...perhaps because we are in _England_, Will." she stated sarcastically. "Have you thought about that? It would certainly help if our child had the ability to converse with the people he meets here. Do you not agree?" she asked him in what was unmistakably her _Why must the English be so idiotic_ voice.

"I realize that, Djaq." He ignored her tone. "But we can teach our child both. Can't we? You can even teach me some Arabic so that I'll understand what the two of you say to each other sometimes. And as for our faiths, well, they're not really so different. Are they? You've always said that our Gods are the _same_ God and that it's only man who gives him different names. You even told me that you believe in Christ. Right? Only, he's not called Christ and he's like a prophet or something in your religion? So can't we just explain all of that to the baby when he or she gets old enough to ask questions?"

"You have given this a lot of thought. It matters a great deal to you?" she asked.

He nodded.

"Why?" she asked, no longer angry.

"Because I love you so much. I wish that I could give you everything. I feel like I've taken so _much_ from you. I know that marrying me and having a baby is not what you planned for your life. And now you're stuck here in this land and you can probably never go home and I just want you to at least have your history and your faith and to be able to share that with our baby." The words tumbled out of his mouth.

"Oh Will. Is _that_ what you think? That you have _taken_ something from me?" she asked him.

"No, not exactly. I know that you love me but still, all of this was never a part of your plan. We wouldn't even be _together_ if not for the fact that you're carrying my child." He stopped speaking when she squeezed her eyes shut. He knew that he'd hurt her. She looked close to tears.

He reached out for her and pulled her close to him. She rested her head against his chest as he wrapped his arms around her tightly.

"I know how badly I hurt you when I pushed you away," she said sadly. "I thought that you knew _now_ how much I love you. I thought that if I loved you enough and opened up to you enough and gave you enough of myself that it would take _away_ that pain and that you would _know_. Know how much I love you and need you and how much you mean to me."

"Oh I do, _habibi_." He stroked her hair. "I _do_ know. You show me every day." And she did...she _really_ did. She showed him in a thousand different ways. Little smiles and looks and touches that he knew were reserved just for him, the way she reached out for him in her sleep, the way she opened up about things and told him things she'd probably never shared with _anyone_ before.

He now understood perfectly well why she'd been so guarded before and so reluctant to let herself love him. She was the type of person who loved with all she had...with her entire heart and soul...and it must have been so frightening for her—after all she'd lost and all she'd been through—to risk giving herself to someone so completely.

Will had always believed that it must be wonderful to be loved by someone as brave and strong and good as Djaq. He'd seen glimpses of her fierce loyalty and deep affection with Robin and the rest of the gang and even with _him_ during the time he'd known her. But he'd never _imagined_ just how amazing it truly was being _loved_ by her. It was warm and bright and it made the whole world seem better somehow. It gave him the feeling that he could do _anything_...that nothing could ever hurt him again...because her love made him strong and protected him from all of the pain this world had to offer.

"I do not know if what you say is true," she said as she wedged herself deeper between his arms and legs. "I have no way of knowing what would have happened if I were not carrying your child. And I do not _wish_ to know. All I want is to love you and to be loved _by_ you. I want to be your wife and our baby's mother. I want to hold you and kiss you and make love to you. I want to play silly games from my childhood with you and snuggle into your arms every night and be greeted by your beautiful smile every morning. And that is all I will _ever_ want for the rest of my life."

"And I do not know what _plan_ you are referring to when you speak of my life and future. I have not had a plan for myself since I was sixteen years old and my brother left this world forever." Her voice cracked. "I cut my hair in a moment of grief and hopelessness and I fled my home in the dark of night simply because I couldn't figure out a way to live as one half of a whole." She sniffled and Will knew she was crying.

He didn't know if he should stop her from going on. If he should tell her that she didn't have to talk about something so very painful to her. Or if she needed to just get this out. Maybe she'd held it all in for much too long. So he stayed quiet and he let her speak.

"And I _had_ no plan...no thoughts for the future," she continued. "I just ran and I let life and all of its cruelty carry me where it would. To war—where I fought and killed and tried to forget, to captivity—where I thought my life would end, to England—to the land of my enemies. And to the gang...and you. And now, my only _plan_ is to be with you and our child. I would follow you anywhere. You haven't taken anything from me, Will Scarlett. You have _given_ me _everything_. More than I ever asked for and much more than I ever hoped. You're my family."

"And you're _my_ family," he said softly as he kissed her hair and her temple and rocked her in his arms. "That's why I can't let you give up those pieces of yourself that are so much a part of who you _are_. Our child should have the privilege of having you share your language and your faith with him or her."

She sniffled again and nodded against his shirt. "Thank you," she said quietly.

"Robin says that there are certain customs for after the baby's born. Things he learned about while he was in the Holy Land. Why haven't you said anything to me about it?" he asked gently.

"I have not mentioned it because I did not know that you would be interested. The birth rites are passed down to us from Muhammad, _peace be upon him_, and they do not really fit in with your ways of doing things here. The women here have such strange rituals for dealing with childbirth like stopping up keyholes and closing all windows and curtains to keep out light and air. Our ways are so different when it comes to such matters that I assumed that you would not wish to participate in the customs of my people. Many of them involve the father and I thought...I do not know what I thought but I am sorry. I can tell you now, if you wish."

"Please," he said.

"I did not actually know some of it myself until fairly recently. Before Rashid left, his servant Aminah guessed that I was with-child and she explained some of it to me. And some of the customs may not be practical for us given our circumstances. But I will tell you and then you and I can decide together."

"I'd like that," he said, holding her close.

"Well, the _Aqīqa_ I was aware of already because I'd been to several of them when I lived at home. An _Aqīqa_ is held seven days after a child's birth and the father slaughters two sheep—well, only one if the child is a girl—and the meat is feasted upon and also distributed to the poor. At the same ceremony, the child's name is chosen—which we have already done—and his or her head is shaved. You are looking at me strangely," she said, looking up at him.

"Why do you shave the baby's head?"

"I think that it is a means of humbling the child in the presence of Allah. And it is good for the child."

"How so?"

"By removing the first very fine layer of hair, the child's hair will grow back thick and strong."

"Oh."

"Then, after shaving, the hair is weighed and its weight in silver is distributed to the poor."

"Your people certainly care a lot about the poor," Will observed.

"Of course. It is one of the five pillars of our faith. It is told that a man once came to Allah's Messenger and complained of a heavy heart. Allah's Messenger said to him, 'Wipe the head of the orphan and feed the poor.' It is as simple as that and it applies to all of us. You look uncertain. Your own faith teaches charity, so why are you so surprised to find that mine does as well?" she asked.

"I'm..I'm not surprised about _that_. It's just...I don't know. We spend every day—every waking moment it seems—helping the poor of Nottingham because they seem to have been forgotten. Because nobody seems to care. The Church does its share, I suppose, but it's just not enough. And then there are _your_ people, making charity a part of nearly _everything_ they do. It's...I don't know...it's just nice, that's all. Go on. Tell me more," he prompted.

She smiled. "Where was I? Oh yes. The _Aqīqa_. That is really all there is to it. As I said, it takes place seven days after the birth and family and friends all attend. That would probably be too dangerous for us to do. We would not want to gather too many people nor draw attention to the child. There are others things that are done immediately following the birth though. Like the _Tahnik_, where we rub the piece of date on the baby's gums as I told you before. And the father has a very important job. He is supposed to speak something into the baby's right ear as soon as he is born."

"What does he say?"

"He recites the _Adhan _which is our call to prayer. Remember I told you that there is a call to prayer by a _muadhdhin _five times each day? Well, as soon as a child is born, his father recites the _Adhan_ in his right ear so that it is the first sound a child hears. But it is meant to be spoken by a Muslim, of course. It does not really make sense for someone who is _not_ Muslim to say it. That is why I did not think that you would wish to do these things."

"What would I have to say?"

"The _Adhan_ is '_Allahu Akbar, Allahu Akbar. Ash-hadu alla ilaha illa-llah. Ash-hadu alla ilaha illa-llah. Ash-hadu anna Muhammadar-Rasulullah. Ash-hadu anna Muhammadar-Rasulullah. Hayya 'ala-s-Salah, hayya 'ala-s-Salah. Hayya.'ala-l-falah, hayya 'ala-l-falah. Allahu Akbar, Allahu Akbar. La ilaha illa-llah.'_ ," she recited in a sing song voice. "Which means...let me see if I can put it into English...it would be 'Allah is the Greatest. I...I bear witness that there is...none worthy of worship but Allah. I bear witness that Muhammad is the Messenger of Allah. Hasten to the Prayer. Hasten to success. Allah is the Greatest. There is none worthy of worship but Allah.' You do not have to do it though. We can skip that part. It will not matter if we do."

"Is there anything else?"

"Not that I know of. We have time to think it over—a full two months at least—and decide which customs we will observe and which we wish to skip. Many of these customs are merely a way of pleasing society and, since there are no other Muslims around, we may choose to do things our own way if we wish. I do not mind. And, if you really want me to, I will teach you some Arabic. I would like that, in fact."

"So would I."

"Now, will you _please_ take your turn so that we may get on with our game before the market starts to clear out?" She nudged him playfully.

"One more thing," he said.

She groaned in what he _hoped_ was a teasing manner.

"Did you really mean it when you said that you would go anywhere with me?" he asked carefully. They hadn't spoken about his insistence that they leave Nottingham since right after she'd been trapped in Gisbourne's basement. At the time, he had agreed that they should take some time to calm down and discuss everything, but neither of them had brought up the matter again.

"Of course I did." She sighed. "I know where this is going."

"You don't want to leave. I know that. You love the others and you care about our cause and you want to stay here. I understand that. I really do. You must know that I feel the same way. But I can't take the chance of losing you. Or the baby. Nothing is worth that, Djaq."

"I _do_ love the others. But I love _you_ much more. You and our child. And I will leave here with you _tomorrow_ if that is what you truly want. I just do not think that you are being very realistic about this."

"What do you mean?"

"The last time that we spoke about it, you said you wanted us to go somewhere safe where we could have a _normal_ life."

"Right. Is that so bad? I could build us a small house somewhere. Scarborough, maybe. Or somewhere else. I could do carpentry and you could be a midwife or a healer if you wanted. We wouldn't have much, but we'd be _safe_. We wouldn't have to live in constant fear of being caught and hanged. Doesn't a part of you want that too?"

"Of course I do. I would love nothing more." She sighed. "Sometimes I even think about how it might be. A little house with a small garden outside for my herbs and a workshop for you. A hearth and a table and chairs inside. A bed in the corner. We'd have privacy. We could sleep naked together and make love in our own bed. I do not know who would do the cooking though, since both of us are hopeless at it." She laughed.

He laughed too. "Then why don't we just do it, Djaq? I know you'll miss the gang. So will I. But they'll manage without us and maybe we can even visit sometimes."

She turned completely around in his arms so that she was facing him. "I want you to listen to me, okay?" she said.

He nodded.

"Say that we did as you suggest and we went to Scarborough. To be close to Luke and your family. Do you not think that the people of Scarborough have heard of Robin Hood, Will? And of Robin's men? The name Will Scarlett must be well known all over England by now. And even though people will not be able to recognize you by sight, your name can not be so common that it will not arouse suspicion."

He listened quietly and thought about what she said.

"It is not only the Sheriff that we have to fear," she continued. "By declaring ourselves 'Robin Hood' and standing beside Robin and fighting for your king, we have made an enemy of Prince John and all who are loyal to him. You _must_ know that. There are many who would turn us in in a heartbeat for the ransom it would bring them. So we would _still_ be in danger. And we would endanger your loved ones as well."

"But..." He trailed off, unsure what to say.

"I suppose that you could change your name. No one would be the wiser. But would you be willing to let go of your name and all that it stands for? Of the Scarletts who came before you? We have chosen your father's name to give to our child should he be a son. So would you have him be Daniel..._what_? Daniel _Smith_, as Allan is so fond of using? Rather than Daniel Scarlett?"

"I didn't really think about that. But I would do it if that's what I had to do in order to live a life with you and our children."

"_Children_? As in more than one?" She smiled at him.

"Do you not want more children? If we had a normal life, then we could _have_ more. We wouldn't have to worry about the danger posed to them by the life we live now. And if that means changing my name, then that's what I''ll do."

"And what about me?" she asked.

"I don't understand."

"Surely it has not escaped your attention that I tend to stand out in a crowd, Will. I am Saracen and there is no hiding that fact. No matter where we go in England, there will be people—many of them—who will hate me on sight. And if our child is dark like me, he or she will face the same hatred. Everyday. Have you thought about the dangers that poses?"

"You're exaggerating. It wouldn't be that bad. I've thought about that too, but even if people might be a bit cautious and mistrustful at first, they'll come around. Just like they have here. No one in Nottingham judges you. They all accept you here. It would be the same wherever we went. It would just..._take_ a bit longer."

"Oh Will. My love, sometimes you can be very naïve."

"What is _that_ suppose to mean?"

"Just what I said. Do you really believe that the people around here see me as just another of Robin's gang? Because they do _not_. They do not trust me...some of them even _fear_ me. They hug their children close as I walk by and they mutter prayers at me and make a cross sign thinking that it will counter my _evil_ in some way. They take what I give them and then they flee from me as quickly as they can. Have you truly never seen this? Do you really believe that everyone around here is as decent and open as you are?"

Was that _true_? Did people really treat her that way? Will had known that there were many in the beginning who didn't trust her, but they all seemed to accept her now.

Didn't they?

Or was she right? Was he just being naïve? Did he only see what he _wanted_ to see?

"But look at all the things you're doing with Matilda and the other women. You're _one_ of them now, aren't you? So doesn't that mean they've accepted you?" He saw a look of hesitation pass over her face as if she were trying to decide how much to tell him. "What? What is it?"

"I have been accepted in Locksley, yes. But not in the other villages. And _they_ know me as someone who gives them money and food regularly. If I cannot win the trust of _these_ people after two years of _helping_ them, what chance do I have of being accepted in a community where I am a stranger to everyone? What chance would our _child_ have?"

"But, as you said, you've been accepted in Locksley. Maybe wherever we go the people will be like the villagers of Locksley. And if they don't accept you, we'll move on until we find a place where they do."

She took a deep breath. "Will, the reason they have accepted me in Locksley is because of _you_. Don't you see that? They love you there and they will always consider you a part of their community. They have taken me in because I am your wife. They are good people and many of them have accepted me, it's true, but much of that started because of _you_. I will explain it to you the way that Robin explained it to me," she offered.

"Wait. Robin knows about this? About people not trusting you and about the people of Locksley only accepting you because of _me_?" He felt incredibly stupid. Poor Djaq. All this time he'd assumed that she fit in here. He supposed that he'd just really wanted to believe it because he'd always wanted her to stay and believing that she'd made a home here meant that he didn't have to feel as guilty about what she was missing in her homeland.

"_Everyone_ knows, Will. I'm sorry but it's true. And this is not the only problem we would face if we left here. I do not pretend to understand your strange laws and rules, but it is my understanding that one cannot simply pick a spot and build a house wherever he wishes. A place would have a master...a lord. Am I right? Just like Locksley had with Robin and now with Gisbourne. I do not think that you could simply move there and build a house and declare yourself the town carpenter. Perhaps I am wrong. And you and I...we are not...we are not married in the legal sense. Do you understand? You are my husband and I love you, but others..._strangers_...will not view us as married and what will that make our child? So I do not believe that you and I will ever have a normal life...no matter where we live."

"So you're saying that the only place in the world where we can be together is here, in this forest? That can't be."

"That is not what I am saying. Or maybe it is. I do not know. Perhaps once your king returns and you are no longer outlawed, as Robin says will happen, we could settle in Locksley. As you say, we are both accepted there and I think that our child would be as well. But...as for living anywhere else...I...I simply do not see how it can be accomplished. We would still end up hiding and we would _still_ be placing ourselves and our child in grave danger."

Was she right? Were their lives such that there really was no happy ending for them? Was safety and a normal life something that would always be just out of their reach?

"And...this is my home, Will. I love you and I meant what I said. I would leave here with you if that is what you wanted...if that would keep our child safe. But Allan and Much, Robin and John. They have come to mean a great deal to me. And Allan...how long do you think that he would stay here once you and I were gone? Hm?"

He suspected that she was right about that. The two of them had discussed Allan a lot over the past few months. They both felt like they'd let him down in some way, by loving each other. Like they'd moved on without him. The three of them still hung out together as often as they could, but it really wasn't the same anymore. Things would be fine and they'd be laughing and talking and joking just as they always had together, and then Will would absently reach out for Djaq's hand or she would casually brush his hair out of his eyes and everything would stop.

And they would both feel so _guilty_. Like they were doing something _wrong_. Only...they weren't. And Allan certainly never implied that he was hurt or resentful. It just felt...strange. That's all. But Djaq seemed to feel that it would just take some time. That even if they could never get back to where they _were_ together, they could at least find a way to make something _new_ between the three of them.

But she was right. If she and Will left Nottingham, Allan probably wouldn't even stick around long enough to say goodbye. Not that he didn't _care_ about the others, but it just wouldn't be the same for him. And even if they asked him to leave with them, things were so awkward between them now that Will doubted he would go.

"So what do we do?" he asked her. "Maybe I _have_ been naïve, but as dangerous as it might be someplace else, it's even more so _here_ in many ways. So what do we do, Djaq? Just wait for something terrible to happen?"

"I am sorry that I called you naïve. You are not. You are simply so good hearted that you do not always understand that even _decent_ people can be ignorant or cruel sometimes. That danger and unpleasantness do not only come from evil men like the Sheriff. And I do not know the answer. Maybe we must simply live each day as it comes. Perhaps we will have to have this discussion many times together and weigh this decision frequently. There may come a day when leaving is the better and safer option. For now, we will simply have to be extra careful."

"It's just so scary. I feel so helpless sometimes. Like I can't even protect my family properly."

"I know. So do I. But we are not alone. We and our child have a home and a family here. I have no doubt that any one of them would lay down his life for our baby. As strange and dangerous a life as this is, in some ways, no child could be luckier than to be born into such a group as this. They are good men and they will teach him things that will make him strong and honorable. He will be a survivor."

"Like his mother." And he kissed her.

"And his father." And she kissed him back. "Now—"

"I know, I know. _Take my turn_," he said, smiling at her. "I love you."

"I know. And I thank Allah for that." She turned again in arms and settled her back against his chest as she prepared herself to play their game.

* * *

_**A few nights after that...**_

Having just finished tying up some bundles of dried herbs and roots, Djaq stood up from her work station and walked over to take her place with the others. She stretched as she did so and mused over the way that the pressure from one tiny baby could feel like the Sultan's entire army standing on her lower back.

Supper had ended just a short while ago and the outlaws were seated around the camp, as usual, and were engaged in a rather silly conversation. At least, it sounded silly to Djaq. Much was defending the virtues of chicken as an ingredient in stew while Allan was winding him up by declaring that lamb was a far superior option. The evening's supper had, of course, consisted of chicken—or so they'd been _told_—and Much took the discussion as a personal attack on his culinary skills, which had been Allan's deliberate intention all along.

Robin did little more than smirk at Much's indignation and add the occasional remark about not taking things so seriously in between whispering in Marian's ear, while Little John looked from Allan to Much and then back again, all the while seeming incredibly bored with the entire exchange. Marian had learned early in her stay with them that it was best to simply let Allan and Much bicker uninterrupted until one or both tired himself out, so she offered no comment. Will was whittling something and kept his eyes on his work, but Djaq could tell that he was following the conversation by the way that he periodically chuckled softly or shook his head.

Djaq made her way over to sit beside her husband, stepping over and between the others as she went. She could have simply gone _around_ them, which she knew would have been the sensible and more polite thing to do, but she was very tired and so had chosen the shortest route. As she passed over, each of them in turn held up a hand to steady her as she flounced, rather gracelessly, over the mass of arms and legs and bodies that were strewn in her path.

They all pretended to aid her unconsciously and unintentionally, so as not to incur her ire. But the gesture was actually done very deliberately and as a matter of agreement between them all, for she had been known to nearly topple over from time to time as she tried to move as swiftly as she used to while still accommodating her belly. She _still_ did not quite have the hang of it.

As she neared her destination, Will stood and brushed the wood shavings off her seat. He had to resist the overwhelming urge to just reach out, take careful hold of her as she waddled over, and settle her snuggly beside him. Although Djaq was not above accepting assistance when she needed it, he knew that she would _not_ abide being treated like a helpless invalid. _She was with-child, not dying! _As she frequently reminded them all. So he simply made a spot for her and watched helplessly as she clumsily plopped down on the bench.

"Whew. What are you making this time?" She huffed tiredly as Will took his seat and resumed his whittling. Will was _always_ whittling something and most of the time he claimed to not to know _what_ it was. He'd told her that he just did it to have some way of keeping his hands busy while they sat idly and that he rarely even noticed what he was doing. She'd often seen him glance down at a finished piece with a look of real surprise on his face, as if the image in his hands had taken shape completely independent of him. She loved that look.

"It's _supposed_ to be a toy." He muttered in frustration. "But I'm not sure that _it_ knows that." The others continued to talk around them.

"More things for the village children? What this time? Dolls? Soldiers? Jackstones?" Will often made things for the children in the different villages, especially Locksley, and they loved him for it. Djaq had always found it rather shocking the way that English peasant children did not really seem to have a _childhood_. It seemed that they were put to work, doing some task or other, practically as soon as they could _walk_ most of the time.

Some of them acted as caregiver to younger children, some worked the fields or milked the livestock, many even served the nobility by waiting at table or emptying chamber pots or whatever else needed doing. It was a stark divergence from the way that _they_—she and her brother—had grown up and it always made her smile when Will tried to give the children some means of having fun and enjoying their childhood while they still had the chance.

"Well, it was _supposed_ to be something for the baby. But it's not turning out right," he grumbled and narrowed his eyes at the object in his hands.

"For the baby? What is it?"

He opened his hand and showed her what he'd carved so far. "It's a little axe. But it's suppose to make noise when you spin it. See?" And he held it up for her to examine the intricate detailing. "The head—the part that would be made of metal on a _real_ axe—is suppose to spin and make a clacking sound when a baby moves it around."

"Oh. That is amazing. You are a genius, Will Scarlett." He ducked his head at such praise.

"How did you happen to think up that idea?" she asked.

"I didn't. My dad did. He made one for me when I was little, but I don't really remember."

"So you really _were_ born with an axe in your hand, then," she mused.

"What?" he laughed.

"Oh. It is nothing. Only that the first time that I saw you fight, I thought to myself that you looked like you had been born with an axe in your hand."

He looked at her quizzically.

"Because you were so skilled with it," she explained.

"Oh. Uh, thanks." He squirmed uncomfortably and she nudged him playfully with her shoulder for being so modest.

"If you do not remember the one that your father made for you, then how do you know how it is suppose to be?" she asked.

"Because Lukey had one too when he was small. He loved his and he always had it with him, making that ridiculous clacking sound wherever he went. It drove my mother crazy." He laughed heartily at the memory and Djaq was pleased and even a little envious that he could remember those times without pain.

"So your goal is to give our child something that is certain to drive me _mad_?" she asked in a teasing voice.

"Well I don't think we have to worry about that. I can't get it to move properly. See this tiny piece here?" He pointed and she nodded. "It's suppose to drag over the grooves on the handle when the baby twists it. That's what makes the noise. But it won't work."

"You will figure it out, I am sure. You always do. Although I wonder if I should be concerned that you wish to give our child a weapon as soon as he or she is born," she teased.

"It's not a _real_ weapon. It's just a toy," he replied. And then, leaning his head down to her belly he said, "Besides, you _want_ an axe, don't you baby? You want to carry an axe just like your dad?"

"Ohhh!" Djaq's hand shot to her stomach immediately. Will looked at her with fear and confusion. In fact, all conversation from every corner of the camp had come to an abrupt halt as everyone waited to see what had happened.

"What's wrong?" Will wrapped his arms around her, panic creeping in.

"Nothing is wrong. The baby just...he moved but...I think that he _kicked_ me," she replied excitedly, rubbing her belly. "He has moved many times, but never quite like that. Matilda calls it kicking, but it felt more like...I do not know...like he was dancing or wiggling or something. It made my whole stomach move. I bet that you could have felt it this time if your hands had been there," she told Will.

Instantly, eight hands vied for a place on her stomach as Robin, Much and Allan crouched in front of her, leaving Will in the awkward position of trying to lay his hands on her belly from his spot at her side. Marian and John remained in their places but smiled on fondly.

This wasn't the first time that Djaq had noticed John staying away from any baby-centric discussions or activities. He was always considerate and helpful to her, as usual, but he very subtly steered clear of being directly involved with the baby. Djaq imagined that her pregnancy must stir up all sorts of unpleasant thoughts and feelings over all that he'd given up when he'd walked away from his wife. That knowledge left her feeling slightly guilty.

She was also not surprised to see that Marian kept her distance. While many women made a habit of routinely _oohing_ and _aahing_ over babies and pregnant bellies and the like, Marian was simply _not_ that type of woman. Frankly, neither was Djaq...so she understood perfectly well.

And there was also the fact that, as welcome as Marian had come to feel in the gang, and as much as they all liked and valued her presence with them, there were certain times when she still felt like an outsider. And this was one of those times. No one meant her to feel that way, but the six of them had lived, worked, eaten and slept side by side for a long time now, and their shared experiences had bonded them in a way that wasn't easy to define. Marian, however, seemed to accept this as natural and never seemed bothered by it.

The others, though, had absolutely no concerns over propriety or boundaries or even Djaq's modesty as they had each, silently and unanimously, come to regard her belly as community property.

"Hey, it's your Uncle Allan. What'd ya say there, baby? Move for Uncle Allan." Allan called out softly to her unresponsive belly.

"What makes you think _you'll_ be his uncle? Why would she trust _you_ with such a responsibility? Why, you'll probably have him in a tavern before he can walk!" Much challenged.

"So who should be his uncle then? You? _Aunt_, maybe. But not uncle." Allan tossed back, making Much splutter and turn red.

"Aunt? _Aunt_? Exactly what is _that_ suppose to mean?"

"Just what it sounds like. You cook, you clean, you nag. Sounds like somebody's old maiden aunt to me."

"Will the two of you just knock it off?" Robin ordered sternly. "Besides, if anyone is going to be called Uncle, it'll be _me_. Tell them, Djaq." Robin grinned hopefully at her, garnering doubtful looks from both Allan and Much.

"A child can have more than _one_ uncle." John said, adding the first logical words that had thus been spoken.

"John is right. You will _all_ be uncles. As long as you stop all of this bickering. See? He has stopped moving. He thinks that you are all a bunch of mad Englishmen and he is hiding from you." And, indeed, the child within had ceased all movements, but the men did not remove their hands. "Come on, Little One. Do not be shy. Say hello to your uncles. Why so quiet now?" Djaq coaxed. But he would not comply.

"Yeah. He takes after his father, that one. Quiet and shy." Allan remarked offhandedly.

With that statement, Djaq looked to her husband who was smiling sweetly and graciously allowing the others access to his wife and child. "Here." She said suddenly, twisting so that her belly faced only him.

The other hands all dropped away as the men instantly recognized that they may have been intruding upon a private moment. Will, with a slightly nervous look, moved both of his hands to the middle of Djaq's stomach and he waited.

"There! I felt it. I _felt_ it. Wow." He grinned excitedly at her.

"_Ah. You are a very clever baby, then._" Djaq looked down and spoke to her belly in Arabic. "_You were not being shy at all, were you? You were simply waiting for your father. Eh?_"

Will leaned down and planted a big kiss to her abdomen and then another to her cheek. He noticed the rest of the gang looking at him questioningly as they eagerly awaited their turn to feel the child move.

"Maybe we should share before we have a riot on our hands." He teased his wife, who turned back towards the others and allowed them to resume their silly baby talk and belly rubbing as each tried desperately to be the one who could get the baby to move. Will took her hand in his and gave a small squeeze, silently acknowledging what they were both thinking. That at least for now, this was right where the three of them belonged. At home...with their family.

* * *

_**Later that evening...**_

There she was.

It was late. Much later than Allan _usually_ came to see her. He watched for some sign that she'd noticed his presence but there was nothing. No coy flip of the hair, no challenging remark, no mocking eyes just daring him to say something. She was different somehow, now that she didn't realize she was being watched. Softer, more vulnerable maybe. She always seemed to have a hard edge to her whenever he saw her. But not tonight. Clearly, she wasn't expecting him.

Why _should_ she be when he hadn't been to see her in weeks?

And he'd never come around _this_ late before. He was surprised to see her walking home from the castle all alone. He'd always heard that the girls from the castle walked home in groups whenever possible. Safety in numbers, he guessed. He knew that there were several guards who had a bad reputation for not taking no for an answer and the thought of her maybe encountering one of them as she walked home alone made him suddenly very angry.

Until the incident with Djaq in Gisbourne's basement, Allan had been coming around as often as he could over the past few months. At first, he'd come only to request information for Robin. Then, little by little, he'd started coming around just to _see_ her...just to chat for a while. He never told her that, of course. He always made up some _other_ reason for being there. He'd say he was killing time between deliveries...or hoping she could spare something small from the kitchen. Or that he was just wondering if she'd heard anything that might be of use to Robin—Robin's name always worked wonders with the ladies. _Anything_ but the truth.

That he kinda liked her. That he'd actually come to enjoy her company. And _not_ in the way that he'd always enjoyed all _other_ women's company—all but one, of course.

Rebecca was funny and sharp-tongued and she always gave him a hard time. But he enjoyed it and so he gave her a hard time right back and she enjoyed it too. He could tell. And she was easy to talk to. So much so that he sometimes found himself wanting to tell her things that he'd only ever told Tom...or Will and Djaq. She always acted like she had better things to do than stand around talking to the likes of _him_—in fact she'd said as much more than once—but Allan suspected that she'd come to appreciate his company almost as much as he'd come to appreciate _hers_. It'd felt like they had reached a kind of unspoken understanding.

Until Allan had believed—for just a split second—that Djaq was gone forever. Then he'd seen what that belief had done to _Will_. And even after the two of them had gotten to her and gotten her out of that basement, Allan just couldn't shake the feeling that he'd almost lost them both. That he'd nearly lost his family.

_His family..._

It'd been even worse—_so_ much worse—than losing Tom.

Tom had been his real brother and losing him had cut deep, but it was mostly guilt and regret that Allan'd felt then. Sure, he'd mourned the loss of his brother...the one with whom he'd shared so many dreams and schemes and narrow escapes back in the early days of being on their own. But even more than that he'd felt the guilt of how badly he'd _failed_ Tom. _Always_. Allan knew that, as the elder of the two, it'd been _his_ responsibility to help Tom get on the right path to being a good man and living a respectable life. But Allan hadn't even known what a good man or a respectable existence _was_ until he'd met Robin..._and Will_.

So how could he have offered that to _Tom_? But once they were reunited, Allan had been so _hopeful_...so Hell-bent on giving his brother the purpose and the family that he himself had found, that he hadn't even noticed that Tom just didn't get it. Maybe if Allan had taken more time with him...time to explain all he'd learned about people and about himself since joining Robin. Maybe if he'd asked Robin or Will for advice on how to deal with Tom...

But no. He'd been _so_ determined to be the big brother and to show off what a good man he'd become and to _push_ Tom onto the straight and narrow path that he'd _completely_ missed the very _last_ opportunity he'd had to connect with his only remaining family member. They'd been the only two A'Dales left—out of the large and unwieldy brood they'd all once been—and seeing Tom dead should have meant that Allan was all alone in the world.

Only...somehow it _hadn't_.

Because _they_ were there. All of a sudden, they were right there for him. _Both_ of them. Will...and Djaq. They seemed to understand in their own way and to know exactly what he needed and they _became_ that. They became _everything_. Family, friends, purpose, guides. He'd needed them and they—beyond all reason and logic and hope—had seemed to find something in _him_ to need and to love and to _lean on_ as well.

And being faced with how close he'd come to losing them both had shaken Allan to his very core.

It had all but shattered the burgeoning thought that had lately planted itself in the back of his mind that maybe _he_—Allan A'Dale...trickster, liar, thief—could have a life and a love that was just for _him_. That maybe this uncharted territory...this friendship with the simple kitchen girl that made his chest flutter and his tongue twist...could really _lead_ to something.

Someday. Maybe.

He'd wanted to come and see her the very afternoon it'd happened...right after Will and Djaq had come back to camp and Allan knew that they were both safe and sound. He'd wanted—_needed_—so badly to see her face and talk to her. Just hear her voice and see the playful glint in her hazel-brown eyes that—for whatever reason—seemed to charm him right out of his wits.

But he just couldn't bring himself to do it.

He couldn't make his feet walk toward the castle. He'd _tried_. He really had. But he'd ended up in the tavern instead and pretty soon he'd allowed the noise and the smells and the warm, soothing liquid to lull him back to where he belonged...where he'd _always_ belonged...alone. Not facing the very real prospect of losing someone close to him again. _Not_ that Rebecca was close to him. But she _could_ be.

Someday. Maybe.

So he'd avoided her ever since. But somehow tonight his feet had carried him here of their own accord. And so he'd been waiting, hidden in the shadows, just to catch a glimpse of her. To see her toss her red hair in laughter or, more likely, in challenge to something someone had said.

Although he supposed that just plain _'red'_ didn't quite _describe_ her hair. The color of a warm sunset? Maybe. With streaks of gold and honey running throughout just to confuse the eye? Yeah, that was more like it... _Good Lord!_ Even in his head he sounded like a fool—and he wasn't even very _drunk_.

But tonight she wasn't tossing her hair or laughing or standing with her hands on her hips in that forbidding way that she had when she wanted to let everyone know that she didn't take any nonsense. Tonight she was just walking. Alone.

"Rebecca!" He called out, hoping he didn't sound too eager. She whipped her head around in fear, but then, once her eyes had settled on him, cloaked and standing in the shadows, he saw a clear look of relief cross her features. Then, almost instantly, she narrowed her gaze and eyed him suspiciously, the hard exterior back in place.

"It's a little _late_ for you, isn't it, A'Dale?"

Allan nearly choked on the multitude of ways that simple question could apply to him.

"Yeah, well, I got held up." He managed, again trying not to sound desperate.

"I'm sorry." She said, her voice taking on a tone he didn't recognize. "I...I don't have anything to give you. The kitchen's all closed up. I stopped keeping something aside for you when you stopped..." her voiced trailed off slightly, but then she resumed in a stronger, if less _confident_, tone. "If you come by tomorrow, I'll try to have something for you then."

It was then that Allan realized _why_ she was walking home all alone...why the other girls had already gone. Because of _him_. She'd been waiting to see if he'd turn up. Maybe she'd done the same every day that he hadn't come. That knowledge filled him with a lot of feelings he had no desire to deal with—he was touched that she liked him enough to wait for him, he felt guilty that he hadn't been around, and he was more scared than he could even admit to himself over the idea that she might've come to depend on him...even a little. But the main thing he felt was _anger_ that she would put herself in danger because of him.

"You shouldn't be walking out here all by yourself after dark. There's no telling who could be lurking around," he said seriously.

"Said the cloaked figure hiding in the shadows." She smirked and gave her long hair a toss.

"Well yeah. But _I'm_ harmless." He teased, stepping out from the darkness into the moonlight and walking toward her. He saw a look of uncertainty flash behind her eyes for just a moment before she seemed to take his measure and decide not to run, holler for help, or—more likely—land a fist to his jaw or a foot to his privates.

"_Harmless_? That's not what _I_ hear." She teased right back, but there was that oddness to her voice again that Allan couldn't quite place.

"Oh?" He quirked an eyebrow.

"Oh yeah. The girls all tell stories about you, A'Dale. They say you're quite a heart breaker, you are."

"You shouldn't listen to gossip. Hell, _I_ started most of those stories _myself_."

"_Really_?" Her tone dripped with sarcasm.

"Well, yeah. How else am I supposed to keep all the ladies at bay? I'm irresistible you know. Can't beat 'em off with a stick sometimes. In fact—"

"Alright. I get it." She laughed. Then she looked at him uncertainly, clearly wondering why he was still there. "Um, like I said, if you come 'round tomorrow, I'll try and have something set aside. Won't be much, mind you. Maybe some bread and cheese or something."

"Maybe I didn't come around for a snack." He offered quietly, shuffling his feet and trying but failing to sound flippant.

She was instantly on her guard again.

"No no." He amended quickly, holding his hands up in front of him in a gesture of innocence. "I...I didn't mean nothing like that. I just meant that I...I...just wanted to say hello and to see what you've been up to."

Allan forced himself to take a giant step away from her as she crinkled her nose—in contemplation over what he'd said—in a way that succeeded in making him want nothing so much as to kiss the light smattering of barely-visible freckles that covered its bridge. But he couldn't...he _wouldn't_. Because he _liked_ her. Not that she'd've _let_ him anyhow. But he really did like her and he had no desire to ruin things.

She didn't answer, so he continued nervously. "I just thought that maybe we could talk about...well...things have been a bit rough lately and I..I just...like talking to you and well...you know..." _Where in the bloody Hell did __**that**_ _come from? _That was it, no more alebefore coming to see her.

She laughed at his discomfort but he noticed that she didn't meet his eyes. That was just as well, because if she _had_, he wasn't quite sure what nonsense would have come out of his mouth next.

"Well, I was heading home just now." She said "I live over in Barnsdale and it's a bit of a walk. We usually walk together, the girls and I, but I...had some chores to catch up on before leaving. My mum'll be expecting me."

"Oh. Right then." He tried hard not to sound disappointed. But he _was_. More than he'd even expected considering he hadn't planned on seeing her at all tonight.

"But...if you _want_...you could...walk...part of the way with me?"

He could tell that she tried to phrase it as a casual question, though it was anything but. They had never ventured this far together before—literally or figuratively—and both were leery and unsure...of themselves and each other.

"Yeah. Yeah, I suppose I could go part of the way with you." He said softly, knowing that he had no intention of leaving her side until she was safely in her house.

So their feet led the way as they clumsily stumbled over words and meanings as neither was quite sure what to make of this new side to the other. Eventually, though, she became more relaxed, her words coming out easily as she filled him in on her family life. Her dead father—a blacksmith, aging and sickly mother, two sisters—long-since married off and moved away, and three brothers—two killed in the King's war, the third still fighting in the Holy Land. Though the youngest, she was the family's sole bread winner now and a job in the castle kitchen—while less than ideal for a young woman with a strong desire to hold onto her virtue—was one of the best, most steady paying jobs around.

Allan didn't talk about the A'Dale family and she didn't ask. But what he _did_ tell her was of far more importance to him. He told her about the gang. And he told her about _them_...about Will and Djaq...haltingly and carefully at first. Finding that words didn't come easily to him for the first time in his life. He told her what he knew about Will's mother and about his father and brother and all that Will had endured and what he fought for. He told her what he knew of Djaq's father and brother and her life before England—leaving out the parts he didn't think Djaq'd want anyone else to know—and all that _she_ fought for.

He thought that Rebecca might have some strong feelings regarding Djaq, considering that her own brothers had died fighting Djaq's people, but she never made any mention of the fact that Djaq was a Saracen. Although of _course_ she knew. _Everyone_ knew. You only had to look at her to know.

It sometimes made Allan sick when people looked at Djaq skeptically or even with blatant mistrust just because she was a foreigner. Allan never made a big deal of it because he knew that _Djaq_ preferred to just ignore it, but he always had to hold himself back from shouting to those idiots that Djaq had more class, intelligence, and honor in her little finger than most people he'd ever met put _together_. But Rebecca didn't seem to notice or care that Djaq was different and Allan found himself irrationally pleased by that fact.

"And you?" She asked, breaking him out of his thoughts.

"Me?"

"Yeah. You've told me that Much fights for Robin because he used to be his master, and that Little John used to steal for survival, but now he fights and steals to help his fellow man. Everybody _knows_ why Robin Hood fights, and you've told me about Will Scarlett and Djaq. So what about _you_? What keeps you here? Why do _you_ do it?"

Allan had never really thought about _Why_ before. Well, maybe briefly, a time or two. But he'd never really come up with a satisfactory answer. How could he explain it to _her_ then?

But she interrupted his rambling and slightly panicked thoughts. "For _them_."

It wasn't a question and he suddenly didn't feel like feigning confusion over just who she meant by _them_. So he simply nodded.

"Yeah. I thought so," she said. When he looked at her questioningly, she shrugged and added, "You talk about them a lot."

_He did? _

"I get it," she said reassuringly after a moment. There was no pity in her voice, no trace of judgment over the strangeness of such a relationship, no questions about what it all meant. "It must be hard to lose them to each other. Even just a little."

She understood.

And suddenly, for the first time, so did Allan...and he allowed himself, for the briefest of moments, to feel the loss of what his friends' happiness meant for _him_. Only this time their was no guilt or resentment...no fear or regret. Just honest mourning for what _was_—and probably would never be again. But there was something _else_ too. A real hope for the future. A hope that there might be something good in store for him.

Someday. Maybe.

And that was something Allan A' Dale—trickster, liar, thief—had _never_ felt before.

* * *

Review?


	27. Birth, Death, and What Lies Between

_**A/N:**_ _I know. Another late chapter. Sorry. Real life and all that. _

_Also, I feel that I must issue a warning for this chapter. So here it is._

_Warning: This chapter contains some material that may be uncomfortable for some readers. It's not sexual in nature, but there is some rather disturbing life and death content that some of you may find a bit too gory. _

**Birth, Death, and What Lies Between**

Robin looked down from where he was perched on a low branch and signaled furtively to Much—crouched behind two large boulders—who turned ever so slightly and nodded to John. John, in turn, leaned out from behind the large oak tree which concealed him and caught Will's eye, prompting the carpenter to throw a nearly silent bird call up to where Marian was sitting, on a low tree branch of her own, on the opposite side of the road. Marian, then, flicked an acorn down at Allan who was hiding behind the same tree.

It was all carried out seamlessly and with great stealth and precision. The result of endless practice, heightened awareness, and sharpened skill.

Djaq sat on a small mound, a good ways back from the road, and watched as all of this unfolded before her. She could see the anticipation burning in the eyes of the outlaws she had a view of, and she had no doubt that the rest of them were just as primed and ready for action. This was important to them..._the moment of truth_, as Robin had called it.

The forest around them was eerily quiet. Indeed, even the woodland creatures appeared to somehow understand that something significant was afoot, for they made nary a tweet nor a rustle, instead doing their best to remain hidden and out of the fray.. All fell silent as the entire forest seemed to collectively hold its breath...

and wait.

Then, in a flash, all hell broke loose as Robin started barking out orders and the others all scrambled to obey without getting in anyone else's way.

"Allan, go _now_! Run! And don't stop for anything. This is important and time is of the essence! Will and Marian, you know where to meet us. Grab what you need on the way! Go go _go_! John, you're responsible for getting Djaq safely back to camp. _Carry_ her if you have to, just _get_ her there. _Now_! Much, you—"

"I do _not_ require _carrying_, thank you very much." Djaq interrupted, causing everyone to stop what he or she was doing and stare at her incredulously. She rose to her feet and placed her hands on her hips in defiance.

"You have to do your part, Djaq. This is not the time for being stubborn," Robin scolded with a frown.

"No, it is the time for _resting_. I am tired and I do not wish to do this anymore. You all may continue without me." She waved a hand dismissively at the group as she plopped back down on the ground and sat, showing that she had no intentions of complying.

"But how?" Will asked, clearly so surprised by her outburst that he had forgotten his part of the plan and now stood looking around trying to remember what he was supposed to be doing.

"Simple," she answered. "Just pretend that I am not here."

"But we _can't_," Marian insisted.

"Then pretend that I am participating. Do whatever you like, but I am finished for today."

"Djaq—" Robin began but was cut off by Much.

"Oh fine. Just let her be," Much called out impatiently. "We really don't need her for most of it. Her part is a small one anyway."

"_A small one?_ _Hm!_ _Well that is good know. Is it not?" _Djaq whispered in Arabic to her baby as it wiggled around inside her belly, trying to get comfortable.

She caught John's eye as he stood nearby and she raised her eyebrows as if to say _Can you believe all of this craziness?_ She had expected him to roll his eyes and give her a knowing smirk in return, as he often would when they shared a glance over the foolishness of one of Robin's plans. To her surprise, however, he shot her an admonishing glare and shook his head. Clearly he, too, thought that this was important and that she should take it more seriously.

"Oh fine! But why must we do these ridiculous _baby missions_ over and over again?" she demanded with impatience.

"It's baby _raids_, Djaq." Marian corrected calmly from her tree branch, where she had returned in readiness to start their activity again.

"No. You're _both_ wrong," said Allan as he strolled back into the middle of the group, having cut his run to Locksley short. The sound of everyone bickering must have alerted him that the plan was on hold for the moment. "It's _Operation Baby_. Remember?"

"Allan's right." Much agreed with a vigorous nod.

"That's just stupid. What kind of name is _that_? I think Marian's right." Will said, earning him a nod from Marian.

"No. I'm afraid _they're_ right." Robin sighed and shook his head. "It's _Operation Baby._ Don't you remember that when we couldn't come to a unanimous agreement on a name, we drew straws? And _Much_, unfortunately, got to pick the name?" He glared at Much who glared right back.

"Yes, well, that's as it should be anyway," Much argued. "After all, it was _my_ idea to have these practice sessions so that we would all be ready whenever Djaq went into labor."

"But it was only _your_ idea to do them inside the camp. I'm the one who came up with the idea to practice out in the forest so that we'd be ready no matter where we were or what we were doing." Marian said proudly.

"Yes and just look at how _that_ has complicated everything! Nobody knows what to do or where to go anymore," Much huffed.

"That's hardly _my_ fault," Marian said, clearly rather offended.

"Yeah. If anything it's Robin who's confusing everybody by shouting out so many orders," Allan said.

"Well _somebody_ has to give the orders. And since _I'm_ the leader, it makes sense that it should be _me_."

"What does being the leader have to do with anything?" Marian scoffed.

"That's right," Much agreed. "_I_ should be in charge since it was _my_ idea to begin with."

"Well _Will's_ the baby's father. If anyone should be the boss, it's him," Allan put in.

"No. _I'm_ the leader. I'm _always_ the leader," Robin stomped his foot. "We decided when we started doing these that it was _my_ job to assign tasks and that's what I've been doing all along."

The others all looked down or away but Djaq was sure she heard them collectively mutter something along the lines of, 'You mean _you_ decided.'

"Aye. But you change people's task each time we _do_ this," John grumbled loudly, making the others nod.

"He's right, Robin," Will said. "Why can't we each just have _one_ job and practice doing it well? That way we'd know what to do when the time came."

"Because we don't know which of us will happen to be around when Djaq's time comes. Do we?" Robin asked in a very sour tone...the tone he reserved for use when the lads were questioning his orders a bit too much. "So it's best if we're all trained in _every_ job. Isn't it?"

The bickering continued, with each member of the gang periodically either interjecting some complaint, or taking the credit for some aspect of the plan that he or she felt was successful. Djaq, however, closed her eyes—not even _trying_ to suppress a great big yawn—and did her level best to tune them all out.

They had been doing these _baby raids_, or _baby plans_, or whatever the hell they were called—she could never remember—for a couple of weeks now and the novelty had long since worn off for her. At first, she had been very impressed and touched when Much had suggested coming up with a plan for when she went into labor.

That was until she realized what was _involved_ in one of his plans. He had decided that they should have surprise practice drills while going about their daily routines. _Every_day. And that everyone should participate and then offer little helpful 'suggestions' to one another for how they could improve their thoroughness and efficiency at their task for next time.

The rest of the outlaws had groused and grumbled and seemed just as put out over the time and effort that he expected them to put into this operation as Djaq was, and she had happily assumed that it would go no further. Until Much gave a rousing and deeply moving speech—probably the first speech of his life to receive such a positive response—that seemed to win the others over to his way of thinking.

He spoke about how important this was for Djaq and the baby and how they all needed to pull together and make sure they were prepared for _anything_...and everyone had readily agreed. Even John, who always did his best to subtly detach himself from anything and everything to do with the baby, seemed to throw himself into the activity right along with everyone else after hearing what Much had to say.

It was a nice speech and Djaq really _did_ appreciate the sentiment, but she did not like the idea of being shoved into her bed—or the birthing chair that Will had made for her—at a moment's notice and then playing along as everyone and their uncle wiped her forehead with a damp cloth or held her hand and reassured her that Matilda was on the way—which she was was _not_. Or even reminded her to _breathe _and not to panic—as _if_—while they readied birthing sheets and boiled water and ran all the way to _Locksley_ just to _pretend_ to fetch Matilda and bring her back to camp.

Oh yes. Everything had to be authentic. _That_ was rule number one.

Djaq had actually lost track of how many rules they were up to now as someone seemed to add a new one during every practice session. They were all taking it _so_ seriously. After all, this was the _moment of truth_—Robin had coined that phrase early in their practice sessions and now used it whenever possible.

And it wasn't that _she_ _**didn't**_ take it seriously. Just that she really couldn't see how these sessions were _accomplishing_ anything. The plans got bigger and more elaborate every time. They had now moved them outdoors and replaced the element of surprise—which had stopped working after the tenth time or so—with the pretense of everyone either being on a raid or engaged in chores or some other activity. It gave them all the excuse to pretend to be caught in the middle of something and have to work together to get her back to camp and fetch water for boiling and all of the rest of the nonsense that was needed.

And she was tired. _Really_ tired. Plus, despite the fact that _she_ was the pregnant one _and_ her reaction to what Much had said about the size of her role in their practices, he was right. Her part was a small one and they never listened to her complaints _anyway_. They just shushed her or seemed to assume that she was just playing her part and so petted her hair and told her not to worry, that everything would be over soon enough. She really couldn't see why they didn't just use a _broom_ in her place. It would have worked just as well, frankly. But no. Everything had to be _authentic_. Rule number one and all that.

They were far too caught up in this, as far as Djaq was concerned. She and Will had discussed it at length and they suspected that practicing for the birth made the outlaws all feel a bit better about the dangerous life this child was being born into. Like maybe if they planned and practiced and got as prepared as they possibly could for the _birth_, it would somehow balance out all of the security that would be lacking in the baby's _life_ from day one.

They loved her baby. She knew that and she was no less concerned about the danger than _they_ were, but these _baby plans_ or whatever they were called weren't going to make its life any safer. That was going to require constant effort, planning, and diligence of a different kind.

But Will had convinced her to go along with it. He said that they should be happy to see everyone taking such an active role in their baby's well being—which of _course_ she _was_—and that it was good to be prepared anyway. So she had agreed and she _did_ go along..._most_ of the time. But today she was hot and tired and had absolutely _no_ patience for all of the fake stealth and constant bickering.

She pulled herself away from her negative thoughts when Will sat himself down beside her.

"Have you come to tell me that I am not behaving myself properly? That my part is a small and unimportant one and that I should stop being so very stubborn?" she challenged with a teasing—if tired—smile.

He laughed. "Hardly."

"Good." She yawned.

"You're tired," he said in an understanding voice, pulling her down gently so that her head rested on his lap.

She nodded and closed her eyes as he ran his fingers softly through her hair, feeling a light breeze with each ruffled tuft.

"That's enough for today," Will announced to the group. "Djaq's too tired and she needs her rest."

Djaq marveled at the way that his announcement seemed to be all it took to bring things to an end, as no one would ever dare to argue with him about her. She chuckled lightly as she thought about the way in which they all seemed to accept his word as law now where she was concerned. Even when they disregarded her _own_ words—having grown accustomed to her periodic outbursts and bouts of moodiness—they never questioned _his_.

Djaq never thought that it could be so nice...so terribly _easy_...having someone looking out for her.

She didn't even bother to open her eyes as she heard the chatter of the others on their walk back to camp dissolve around her. She concentrated on the long cool fingers of her husband as they stroked her hair and lulled her into a peaceful—and much appreciated—sleep.

_**

* * *

**_

Two days later...

"Hey!" Djaq called out, snapping her fingers impatiently in Allan's direction. "A little _help_ here?"

"Huh? Oh, right. Sorry." He rushed over to where she knelt in the dirt trying to get to her feet and he took careful hold of both her arms, heaving her into a standing position.

"Thank you," she muttered irritably, dusting herself off and trying to keep from toppling over as she stuffed a bundle of something or other—Allan had no idea _what_—into her pouch. He waited until she was steady on her feet before releasing her and stepping back to resume his position leaning against a tree.

"So...where to now?" he asked, trying not to sound too bored.

Djaq was still unsure why Allan had offered to be her escort for the afternoon. Herb-collecting was _not_ an activity that he ordinarily enjoyed or had any aptitude for and today was proving to be no exception.

"The other side of the brook, just past the ridge," she told him. "I want to check for Valerian."

She had needed some items to replenish her supplies and she'd wanted to be sure to get them before the last of the summer plants had withered away so, naturally, she'd had to ask for a volunteer to accompany her.

But Allan was the last person she'd expected to offer his services.

Will and Robin were in Clun for the day on an unscheduled trip to aid the families of some men who had been injured when a roof collapsed. The gang—even Djaq, who had been needed for her medical expertise—had been there yesterday in order to help out in any way that they could, but Robin and Will had returned alone today. Will was helping to repair the roof and the two of them had taken enough extra food and money to help the families get by until their men were once again on their feet and able to work.

So that left John, Much, Allan, and Marian as potential chaperones. She had expected Marian to be the first to offer seeing as she hated being stuck inside the camp even more than Djaq did. Although John—due to his extensive knowledge of the forest and its foliage—and Much—who, although a nearly _constant_ complainer, had a pretty good understanding of plants and their uses—were also always willing and very capable when it came to the job.

Allan, though, was hopeless at it. And, frankly, he really didn't care for it as a pastime. He found the task boring and tedious and Djaq knew that he avoided it whenever possible. He couldn't tell one plant from another most of the time and had absolutely _no_ desire to learn.

He had accompanied her both alone or with Will only a handful of times since she'd known him and each of those trips had ended with Allan either becoming so silly that they were unable to get anything done for laughing so hard, or he had gotten so bored that he had finally needed to get away and get to the nearest 'watering hole', as he called it, without delay.

He was always more than willing to spend time with her doing anything else, so she'd never really objected to his lack of enthusiasm for the task.

But today he had been the first one to jump up and offer to join her. Very strange.

"Valerian it is, then. Lead the way, My Lady," he said with a dramatic bow.

She grumbled at the nickname and the man who spoke it.

He called her that every once in a while and she had often thought it endearing, but today his charms were having a very difficult time outweighing her discomfort and her impatience with him. She was hot and itchy, her dress-trouser contraption that Much and Marian had somehow managed to painstakingly stitch together for her—something for which she was incredible grateful—was riding up in the most _uncomfortable_ of places, her breasts were sore, her feet were swollen and her _helper_—if Allan could even be _called_ that—was proving to be absolutely _no_ help at all in gathering what she needed. He just stood around, shifting from one foot to the other, as she foraged, crouched, dug, plucked, snipped and bundled.

In _fact_, she'd had to yank him back to reality with a sharp word or two several times already when she'd needed assistance reaching something or getting to her feet and she once again wondered what on earth had possessed him to want to come with her today. She was just about to ask him when he spoke instead.

"So...I um...I wanted to um..." He rubbed the back of his neck and ran his hand nervously through his hair. "...to tell you that...that I um...I um—"

"Just spit it _out_, Allan!" She swatted him impatiently. So he had something he wanted to discuss with her? Interesting. Clearly _this_ was the reason he had wanted to be alone with her, not some newfound interest in plant life. But he had never had any trouble saying what was on his mind before and she wondered what could have him so tongue-tied. And couldn't they just speak and walk at the same _time_, for goodness sake? It was hotter than the desert and she was anxious to be done for the day.

"I'm _trying_ woman! Geez!" He rubbed his arm, knowing that he'd have a bruise there by morning. Djaq's 'playful' smacks were a lot harder than they used to be and probably a lot harder than she intended.

_Or maybe not_, _judging by the way she's glaring_, he noted.

"Well?" she demanded, tapping her foot.

"Fine. Alright. The thing is...you know that I'm glad that you and Will are um...together and stuff, right?"

Nod.

She could feel the panic creeping in. He was going to leave. This was what she had been fearing ever since she and Will had begun spending time together as a couple. Allan felt left out and he was ready to move on...and they would probably never see him again.

"Right. Well, the thing is, I sorta...well...I kinda...I think I might..._like_ somebody," he finished weakly, staring at his feet.

"Rebecca."

It wasn't a question. That was what initially surprised Allan. In fact, it was spoken in a tone that conveyed quite clearly that Djaq thought it the most obvious thing in the world and not in any way worthy of such a grand announcement. It made him stare into her face with a look that he knew must be screaming _Huh__?_

Djaq was overwhelmingly relieved that he wasn't saying goodbye, but she was also rather confused. Why was he having such a difficult time getting his words out? Of _course_ he liked somebody. He was pretty obvious it, after all. She answered his look with a shrug and said simply, "You talk about her a lot."

_He did?_

"I do?"

"Do you talk so much that even _you_ have stopped listening, Allan?" she laughed. "Of course you talk about her. All of the time, in fact. You are always telling me something or other about her. _Rebecca says this; Rebecca says that; she makes the best kidney pie; she does not put up with any nonsense; her hair is like a storm cloud_—"

"A sunset," he corrected.

"Aha. So you _do_ listen to yourself. Well so do I and I _know_ that you like her. Quite a lot, I suspect. You have liked many women before but this Rebecca is special, yes?"

Allan grinned widely and stupidly at her but he just didn't care. "Yes."

She smiled back, truly pleased over anything or anyone that could make him act like such a lovestruck fool. _Ah love, what strange creatures you make us into and then surely laugh at our expense, _she mused.

"At least I _think_ so." he amended quickly.

He had spent the past several weeks trying to put a name to what he felt for Rebecca so that he could try to find a way to bring it up with Djaq. He'd had to muster all his courage in order to do so. He'd worried himself nearly sick that Djaq wasn't going to take it well. That she wouldn't approve. That she would feel that he was abandoning her just when she needed him to be around, or that she wouldn't like Rebecca for some reason. Or even that she would laugh and say that the idea of Allan being serious about a woman was _preposterous_...yeah, that was just the kind of word she'd use too. _Preposterous_.

But instead she wasn't even surprised. In fact, she already _knew_. Leave it Djaq to know just what he felt long before he did.

"And I just...I just wanted you to know," he added when she still hadn't responded.

At that moment Djaq understood him better and felt closer to him than she probably ever had and she had a great and nearly overwhelming desire to avert her eyes due to the hope that she saw burning in _his_. He seemed so badly to need her approval and even her _permission_ to move forward with his feelings. And she recognized that he had—in his wonderful, roundabout, Allan-like way—given _her_ his blessing to be happy with Will even though it seemed to cost him a small piece of himself. So she knew that the very _least_ that she could do for the man before her—the man who meant more to her than any other save one—was to offer _him_ the same. And she really _did_ want that kind of happiness for him. _Truly_ she did.

But the thought of him being wounded in some way by what he felt...of him being crushed and broken under the weight of a love somehow gone wrong, made her chest constrict painfully. Part of her—the part she'd had to struggle to overcome in order to open herself up to Will—wanted to tell him to play it safe. To keep his heart protected at all costs. To avoid the potential agony that loving someone could mean.

But the bigger part of her was reminded of Will. Of how loving and open and patient he was with her. Of how much time she had wasted pushing him away and trying to deny what she felt for him out of fear and pride. Of how wonderful things were between them now and how safe and loved she felt. Oh how she wanted something like that for Allan.

She looked him in the eyes for a moment and then said, with a wide-eyed look and a trembling tone that he found to be so very _un_Djaq-like, "It is frightening to trust your heart to someone, Allan. Particularly someone worthy. At least, it is frightening for people like _us_...you and me. There is so much potential for loss and failure and pain." She looked away for a moment before meeting his eyes again and speaking with a sudden conviction that startled him. "But love can be a _good_ thing if you let it. Trust yourself. Trust your heart."

Allan, dumbstruck by the passion with which she spoke, had no idea what to say to that so he nodded.

"Rebecca is a very lucky woman to have won the heart of such an incredibly good and honorable man. I only hope that she proves worthy of you, Allan A'Dale."

Now it was he who averted his eyes. "Yeah, well...anyways...I just...I wanted you to know and now you do." He tried not to show just how much her words meant to him. "So come on. Let's go get that Verbena."

"Valerian," she corrected.

"Yeah whatever." He waved a hand dismissively. "You know me. My interest doesn't go too far beyond which leaves won't give me a rash when I wipe my—_Ow_!"

"This way," she said with an indulgent smile and a shake of her head.

And he followed—still rubbing his arm where she'd playfully swatted him with much less force than usual.

_**

* * *

**_

The next day...

Much ran through the forest as fast as his legs would carry him. He had to get back to Locksley where Djaq was waiting for him. He knew that he shouldn't have left her there alone, but she'd insisted and she could be _very_ persuasive..._and_ scary. Anyway, it wasn't as if she was out in plain sight. She was indoors with Matilda and her assistants, helping a woman who'd been in labor for a very long time..._too_ long, according to what Djaq had told him.

Sometimes, when he escorted Djaq, Much would find a quiet and out of the way spot, pull his cap down over his face, and catch a nice long nap while she did what she needed to do in the village. But today, he'd been dozing under the shade of a large tree on the outskirts of Locksley when a young girl had run up—scaring the _daylights_ out of him—to tell him that Miss Djaq wanted him.

Much laughed now as he thought of the name. _Miss Djaq. _That was what the children of Locksley sometimes called her. They'd begun calling her that not long after she'd joined the gang and Much had often wondered if they'd started the name in order to remind themselves that she was a girl, and not a boy as she'd appeared. She did look an awful lot like a boy back then. Much chuckled again as he thought about how _un_boy-like she looked now with her giant belly and her longer hair.

Earlier today though, when he'd followed the girl to the home of the laboring woman—Emma, Much thought her name was—he was panicked over why Djaq would send for him. But Djaq told him that, at Matilda's insistence, she was going to try to perform surgery in order to get the baby out of its mother's womb. Much had wanted to tell her that such a thing was much too dangerous...impossible, in fact...and that she shouldn't even try it.

But he could tell from the look in Djaq's eyes that she was already thinking the same thing.

She'd explained that there was a procedure that a physician could perform in order to extract an infant from the mother's body, but it was only _ever_ done in the event of the mother's death in order to try to save the life of the child. Djaq told him that she'd never done the procedure herself, and that she'd only seen her father do it twice, many years ago. Once resulting in the safe delivery of the child, and once...well, that time the results weren't so good.

She quietly explained to him that she did not believe that such a thing had ever been attempted on a living mother, but that Matilda feared that the longer they waited the greater the chance that _both_ mother and child would die. Much could tell how reluctant Djaq was to agree to such a thing, but he knew that Matilda must have insisted that it was the only way and Djaq would want to do all she could.

Matilda always seemed to have a great deal of confidence in Djaq's abilities and Much could _certainly_ see why. Djaq was brilliant! And the people of Locksley were lucky to have her looking out for their health and well being. But he was afraid that this might be beyond even _her_ skills and training. She told him that she needed him to run back to camp as quickly as he could and get her supplies and instruments.

So that's exactly what he had done, and now he was headed back. He hadn't been comfortable leaving her alone, but she had insisted that fetching her instruments was of far greater importance than being her chaperone right now and that if he was afraid of the others being angry with him, they would probably never even know. When he'd arrived at the camp he'd discovered that she'd been right about that because the gang still hadn't returned from their deliveries.

Still, Much wanted to hurry and get back just to be on the safe side. Especially after Will had pulled him aside the other day and asked him whether he'd noticed any of the villagers being anything other than friendly toward Djaq whenever Much had been with her in Locksley. Much hadn't, and he'd told Will so and that seemed to ease Will's mind a bit. But frankly, Much really couldn't _imagine_ anyone being mean to _Djaq_.

First of all, he didn't think she'd put up with it, but also because Djaq was _great_. She really was. Who _wouldn't_ like her? Sure she could be short-tempered and kind of bossy sometimes...and her sense of humor took a bit of getting used to, but he had long since learned that she was more kind, brave, and clever than almost anyone else he'd ever met. Except for Robin, of course...and Marian too. Oh, and Eve. Eve was special.

_Finally!_ thought Much as he banged on Emma's front door while huffing and puffing from the long run he'd just made.

As soon as he was ushered inside, he could hear the whispers of the women. Men didn't _belong_ in the room while a woman was delivering. Everyone knew that. Someone might call for a physician if it couldn't be helped, but other than that men were strictly forbidden. Not that they'd _want_ to be around for such a thing anyway. Much shuddered. _He_ sure didn't. Not if he could help it.

"Thank you for going and returning so quickly," Djaq said to him with an anxious and tired smile when she saw him enter. "Did you bring the basket of things that Rashid's servant gave to me as well?"

Much nodded. "I got everything that you told me. Your bag of instruments, all your medicinal herbs and tonics, and the basket of Saracen spices and stuff. I also brought some bandages, although I suppose Matilda could probably supply those."

"Yes, yes. That is fine. Now, I need you to listen to me very carefully for we do not have much time." And she guided him over to a corner of the room where they wouldn't be overheard.

He nodded, wide-eyed.

"Her labor has gone on for far too long as I have told you." She indicated the woman lying on the bed, moaning and writhing in agony. Much averted his eyes. "I am surprised that her body has not yet given up and died. In fact, death would be merciful for her at this point." She shook her head sadly.

Much would have flinched had that statement come from anyone else. But he was used to Djaq speaking about life and death with so much bluntness.

"I need you to be very strong and listen to me very closely. Alright?" she began carefully. "Her birth opening has not widened enough to allow the child to travel down and pass through. She was given herbs to strengthen her pains, as that is usually all that it takes to widen the opening enough for birth, but all that succeeded in doing this time was increasing her pain."

"Poor woman," Much said.

"There is also a massage technique that is sometimes employed in such situations, but that too has proven fruitless. It seems that her body is still not compliant." She stopped and looked him squarely in the eye. He didn't dare move or speak for fear of what she was about to say. "You and I must try to cut the child from her body, Much."

"Wh-wh-what? M-me? No. Me? I...I can't. I don't know how," he stammered.

"Shh. Keep your voice down!" she ordered sternly. "I do not wish to do this either, Much. If the mother were already dead, I might be inclined to _try_...although I have informed Matilda that I am by no means skilled in this procedure. And even _then_ the child would likely not survive. But with a still-living mother, attempting such a thing is nothing short of _barbaric_."

"Then you shouldn't do it," Much told her desperately.

"But she will most certainly die whether we do this or _not_. Her death is unavoidable at this point and the alternative is that we sit around and wait for her to die on her _own_ which, despite her excruciating pain, could be days. And by then, the child would have no chance for survival at _all_. I feel certain that neither mother nor child will survive this surgery despite my best efforts, but Matilda has asked that I try. And now I am asking for _your_ help. I cannot force you to do this, Much, but you are the only one that I can count on in this matter. I cannot do this without you."

"B-but what about Matilda? I thought you were teaching her your skills," he said.

"She has not yet acquired nearly enough practical surgical experience to be able to assist me in something this complicated and this is far too important to use as a learning case for her. _You_, on the other hand, have assisted me many times and you understand just how I need things done. Besides, you know that once I become absorbed in a surgery I do not have the time to stop and think of the English names for things before I call for them and you have worked with me long enough to recognize the Latin names that I am accustomed to using for herbs and such. Please, Much. I need you."

He really wanted to say no. No_ way. _Absolutely_ not._ Not even for a pardon, the Earldom of Bonchurch, Eve, _and_ a roasted pig. It wasn't that he didn't want the woman and child to live. But she was _screaming_ and there was going to be an awful lot of blood, and this was _childbirth_, for goodness sake. Men just didn't _belong_ here.

But Djaq said she needed him and he couldn't _ever_ remember a time when she'd said _that_ before. And so he nodded weakly and she sighed in relief.

"Good. Thank you. Now go and wash well, just as I have shown you," she told him.

Much washed his hands extra thoroughly in the basin of clean water, and then he coated them in a generous amount of the wash—made from Lady's Mantle and rose water—that Djaq said prevented infections. He double checked to see that his forearms and fingernails were spotlessly clean as well, just as she had taught him. He knew that Djaq would accept no less and would send him back to wash a hundred times if that was what it took to get them clean.

Much had never seen someone as concerned with washing as Djaq was. He sometimes thought that all of her fussing and insistence over cleanliness in healing was a bit silly and he'd told her so once. He'd told her that they had _never_ bothered with all of that when their soldiers were wounded in the Holy Land— even Robin—and that it always seemed like a big waste of time to Much. But Djaq had simply smirked at him and said that if that was the case, it was a wonder that Robin had survived his war wounds at all rather than succumbing to infection and dying in the desert. And that she marveled at how the war was still raging on and all of the Crusaders hadn't drop dead from lack of proper care by now. After that, Much had kept his complaints to himself.

While Djaq and Matilda were huddled together and whispering over a pot on the hearth, Much washed down the table, covered it in clean sheets, and laid out Djaq's instruments nearby just the way she'd taught him. He and some of the assistants carefully moved Emma over to the table amid her many loud moans and wails. He then washed his hands again and stood out of the way, awaiting Djaq's signal to begin.

Although he had been her helper before, and she'd even started to share some of her new baby-related knowledge with him, he really had absolutely no idea what to expect this time. Or just what would be expected of _him_.

Matilda ushered everyone out except for herself, Much and Djaq...oh, and Emma of course...and Much noticed many of the women muttering and shooting daggers at him with their eyes as they left. They probably couldn't understand why _they_ had to leave and _he_ didn't. Frankly, neither could Much.

"Come on, Much. We haven't any time to waste and this will likely be a long procedure." Djaq called to him from Emma's bedside—which was now actually the table.

He joined her and awaited her instructions, but instead, she began by addressing Emma.

"I will ask you this one more time. Are you certain that this is what you want? I will not lie to you. You will not survive this surgery and I cannot guarantee that your child will live, either. I am sorry to speak so bluntly, but I believe that it is better to know what you are facing."

The woman's eyes grew as wide as saucers and Much saw her look from Djaq to him to Matilda and then back to Djaq without responding.

"Emma, I have done everything that's within my power to do for you," Matilda began. "I know of no other way to attempt to birth the child. If you'd rather, I can just give you something to stop the pains altogether and help you try to sleep, but you and the babe will both surely die. If you let Djaq do this, there's at least a chance for the child to live. Don't you want that?"

"Please...no witchcraft," Emma pleaded with Djaq in a whimpering voice as she threw her hands across her belly protectively and Much suddenly understood _exactly_ what Will had been referring to when he'd asked him to watch out for people being 'unfriendly' to Djaq.

_Oh boy_, Much could feel himself burning with anger! Was this woman _stupid_? Much had a strong desire to lean over the table and shout into the woman's face that she was damn! lucky to have such a talented physician tending to her needs. No other physician in Nottingham would treat the peasants without some form of payment, and not _one_ of them was _half_ as skilled as Djaq! If anyone could save her and her baby it was Djaq and this woman had the stupidity...the nerve to ask her not to use _witchcraft_? But he noticed that Djaq only smiled reassuringly and promised the woman that she wouldn't. Much was touched and saddened by that, but he wasn't a bit surprised.

He remembered Djaq once telling him that ignorance was to be pitied and not scorned. And once, shortly after Djaq had joined them in the forest and Much had tried to stammer out an apology for the references he'd made to her religion and her god when they'd first met, she had merely smirked and told him that an apology wasn't needed. She'd told him that in fact there was a time when she herself had believed that _all_ Europeans were filthy, stupid and godless, but that, after getting to know Much and the rest of the outlaws, she had altered her opinion just slightly. Then she'd smirked at him again and walked away, shaking her head. Much hadn't known whether to be insulted or flattered by what she'd said, but after turning her statement over in his head several times, he'd decided on flattered.

"Will it hurt bad?" Emma asked Djaq.

"I will give you something to make you sleep and to help lessen the pain, but there will still be some discomfort. I am sorry," Djaq answered.

"Al-alright," Emma finally consented as she clutched at her gown when another pain ripped through her body. "Just sa-save my baby!"

"You have my word that I will do my best," Djaq answered with a sad smile. "Is there any religious practice that should be performed before we begin?" she then whispered to Matilda. "Because she will likely not—"

"No. It's already been done. Women always choose their shroud and take their last confession before labor begins," Matilda answered, giving Emma some of the tea that she and Djaq had just brewed up.

"If it be a boy," Emma said weakly, having finished the tea, "I want him named after his father...Bartholomew. If the child be a girl, Agnes. Either way, my sister and her husband will take the babe until my own husband returns from the Holy Land."

It was at that moment that Much fully understood the severity of what was about to happen.

Djaq was going to cut into this woman...and she was going to die.

Mothers died in childbirth all the time...Much knew that. It was a fact of life and the aches and pains of labor were ordained by God as woman's punishment for disobeying His word in the garden. _Everyone_ knew that. But it was a very different matter to know that as soon as Emma closed her eyes, she would never open them again. That he was witnessing her very last moments on this earth. That these words were probably the last she would ever speak. He'd seen death before—far more times than he'd like to remember—but somehow _this_ was something different.

Much shuddered and sent up a few silent _Pater Nosters._

"Alright. Hands clean?" Djaq asked and he showed her his hands, which were trembling. "Good. Let us begin. Take out that jar from the very bottom of the basket and give me one of the slivers of bark from within."

He did as he was told.

"The Shepherd's Purse tea that you have just drunk will help to keep your bleeding to a minimum while I cut," she told the patient. "Now I want you to chew on this piece of bark until it dissolves completely, alright? It will help with pain and make you sleep." Emma complied after one final look at Matilda, who nodded encouragingly. "I will be over there discussing something with Matilda and Much but I will return shortly to see if it has taken effect.

Much followed Djaq and Matilda over to the corner of the room. He was beginning to feel rather important.

"Much, it is vital that no one knows what I have given her to chew on. That is why Matilda cleared the room for us. I gave her Mandrake root because that is the only thing I have on hand that is strong enough to overtake the pain of me cutting into her. But Matilda tells me that many of the English are very superstitious about that particular plant and we do not need anyone accusing Matilda or me of witchcraft. Do you understand? It would just be better if no one knew that we had it...it can be very potent and dangerous in the wrong doses."

Much nodded. He certainly knew what people said about Mandrake, but he'd never heard their concerns described as _superstitious _before. But he trusted Djaq and she was certainly no witch, so if she said they had to use it then that was good enough for him. Still, she was right, probably better not to tell anyone. Just to be on the safe side, Much sent up another _Pater Noster_.

While the Mandrake took effect, Much, Djaq and Matilda cleaned all of Djaq's needles, thread and instruments in boiling water and then soaked several clean bandages in water and then set them in a clean bowl filled with more of Djaq's Lady's Mantle and rose water solution. When Emma seemed to have fallen into a deep sleep, Djaq checked her heartbeat and then turned her head to the side in case she vomited while unconscious.

They carefully lifted the woman's garment up and out of the way. Then Djaq asked Matilda to show her exactly where the child was located beneath the skin and then prepared the area with a mixture of the Lady's mantle solution and ground mother wort roots.

Then time almost seemed to stand still for Much as, right before his eyes, Djaq stopped being _Djaq._

She went from being his pregnant friend—who needed help getting up and sitting down, who looked at Will with those silly puppy dog eyes all the time now, who could barely _walk_ without assistance these days and couldn't control her emotions for the _life_ of her—to being someone completely different.

She now had the respect and attention of everyone in the room. Her orders, spoken with clarity and confidence, were obeyed without question as she held two lives in the palm of her hand. Just watching her work, as she called for her scalpel and began cutting, made Much feel incredibly small and insignificant.

It was as if she commanded the whole world all of a sudden and not wealth or title, religion or gender, size or strength could hold anyone else above her. She maneuvered around the table with so much grace and ease that she seemed to forget about her swollen belly and fat feet and concentrated on nothing but the woman in front of her.

Then she stuck her hand part way into the slice she'd made and withdrew it, covered in blood, and Much was sure he was going to be sick.

"Ring out one of the bandages you have soaking in the _Alchemilla_ solution and lay it here...around the incision I have made. _Now_!"

Much knew that _Alchemilla _was what Djaq sometimes called Lady's Mantle and that it was used to lessen bleeding as well as prevent infection setting in, and he quickly and carefully did as she instructed.

_Ugh_! Much's stomach turned uncomfortably. This was _nothing_ like the time they'd healed Marian after Gisbourne had stabbed her. This was _completely_ different.

That time, Marian's cut had been deep and it had been up to Djaq to find and repair the damage inside by stitching her up tight. But this time it was _Djaq_ who was _making_ the damage—much wider and deeper than Marian's wound—and Much couldn't see how she'd _ever_ be able to repair the deep cuts she was putting into this woman.

And there was blood pouring _everywhere_, despite the tea Emma had drunk and the cloth that was in place to staunch the flow.

But Djaq just kept cutting—every slice taking her deeper inside the woman's belly. Much did his very best not to look...he _really_ did...but he found himself fascinated by what she was doing. Well, fascinated and very very disgusted. But really it was quite...quite..._miraculous_. He just kept thinking about how, when she was done, if all went well, a baby that would surely have died had she not been around, would be _alive_.

_If_ _all went well_, Much reminded himself.

"Matilda, I need you to once again put your hands here—be sure that they are clean—and tell me exactly where the child lies," Djaq ordered.

Matilda complied.

"I need the smaller scalpel," she said to Much without looking away from the spot that Matilda had indicated.

Much grabbed the instrument and handed it to her quickly—handle side first, just as she had taught him. His hands were trembling something awful, but the open palm that Djaq held out was as steady as a rock.

He had no idea how much time had passed since they'd begun and he really couldn't tell if everything was going as it should. Djaq wasn't saying much. She only spoke when she needed to give instructions. Other than that she remained silent and eerily composed. He could see sweat covering her forehead, but she didn't even seem to notice as she made another series of cuts with her small scalpel.

Much wanted to ask how things were going...whether they were almost finished...whether Djaq was alright. But he didn't dare. Neither did Matilda. She just stood aside—eyes as wide and amazed as Much was sure his _own_ must be—and awaited further instructions from Djaq.

"Matilda!" Djaq called urgently after quite a bit more cutting. "Much and I are going to hold the skin back as wide as we can, and you must reach in and carefully grasp hold of the child and pull it out."

"We're _what_?" Much cried out.

"Just do as I do, Much," she ordered.

"Are you sure?" the older woman asked.

"Yes! Just do it. Now!" Djaq answered impatiently.

And as Much did his best to ignore the odd feeling of having his hands inside of another person's skin, Matilda gently but firmly reached in for the baby. When she pulled it out, it didn't look like any baby Much had ever seen.

It was all reddish brown and bloody and its face was all scrunched up. In fact, it didn't look like a person at all. And it wasn't moving. Shouldn't it be moving?

"Do everything as you ordinarily would," Djaq told Matilda. "He is in _your_ hands now."

She and Much held their breath as Matilda cleaned off the child and cleared its passages. Within seconds which seemed to crawl like hours they heard a tiny cry and all three rejoiced in the knowledge that it—nay, _he_! as became immediately apparent when Matilda held him up—was alive and drawing breath just as any infant should.

"We did it! We did it!" Much shouted excitedly.

"He's not out of the woods yet," Matilda cautioned him as she dealt with the baby's cord. "The next several hours are very important. But he seems to be a healthy lad with no deformities that I can discern."

"So the surgery has not harmed him?" Djaq asked and Much saw the first flicker of fear shoot across her face.

"Not that I can tell," Matilda responded.

Much noted that Djaq breathed a long sigh of relief at that news. Apparently, she'd been more worried than she'd let on.

"Djaq?" Much called carefully as Matilda began wrapping Bartholomew snuggly in strips of cloth. "Is she...is she..._gone_?" He indicated Emma—now the mother of a fine son—lying on the table before them.

"I believe that her body gave out about halfway through the procedure, Much," she answered sadly. "It was at that point that the blood seemed to stop flowing."

And Djaq checked for a heartbeat just to be sure. She touched several of what she called _pulse points_ and even held a blade beneath Emma's mouth and nose, all with the same results...nothing.

"I will stitch her up and prepare her body," Djaq announced with a haunted look in her eyes.

And just like that, all of the joy and excitement of a moment before was now tempered by the knowledge that this woman would never hold her child. That she would never get to rock him to sleep or kiss his scraped knees or make him porridge for breakfast on cold mornings.

And the boy would never know his mother. Never know that her last moments in the world were spent worrying about his future. He would never suckle at her breast or call out for her in the night after a particularly frightening dream.

With a heavy sigh, he and Djaq began to peel away the layers of bandages in order for Djaq to stitch her up as best she could before burial. Much couldn't help the tears that flowed down his cheeks as they worked. It just wasn't fair. It was terrible and pointless and he wished once again that he were anywhere but there at that moment.

He didn't know why Djaq would ever choose to do this. Choose to be a physician and watch people die. There was enough death and misery everywhere you looked and he certainly did not need a front row seat for more. Djaq had told him before that she'd started helping her father with patients when she was just a small girl and Much had been in such awe of her. To be given such an very important job at such a young age! Her father must have had a great deal of pride and confidence in her.

But thinking about it now, under the shadow of what he'd just witnessed, Much felt only pity for a little girl so desperate to be strong and brave in her father's eyes that she would willingly be a part of life and death at its most harrowing. Even now, she did not react. Although Much himself felt like fleeing. He wanted to run from the room, throw himself to the ground and cry like a baby.

Not that he'd really _known_ Emma. He'd seen her around, but that was it. And he wasn't sad in the same way he was when they'd thought Marian was dead. _That_ was one of the worst moments of Much's life...seeing Robin so broken. But still, Much just couldn't stop the tears. He just kept thinking, _What if that were Djaq?_

"Much!" Djaq, with her hand deep inside the woman's abdomen, cried out suddenly. "Put your finger here. Keep your thumb out of the way and press right here. Do you feel anything?"

He did as she ordered and waited. Nope. Nothing.

Unless...

"You felt something? You made a face. Did you feel something?" she asked anxiously.

"I...I think so. I think I felt her heart beat...just a little. But how? You said she was gone."

Djaq immediately moved his hand aside and called out for her needle and thread. As she began stitching, she spoke. "We must be quick about this. I cannot believe that she is still alive. I thought that I felt a faint pulse just now as I was cleaning her up, but I was not certain. The herbs slowed her heart rate in order to control some of her bleeding. Even still she lost a lot of blood which only made her pulse fainter. I almost missed it entirely. Let us hurry and get her closed up and maybe she will still have a chance. A small one, but it is still a chance."

Much could tell that Djaq was trying not to get his hopes up...or her own. But he could also see a spark of something flickering behind her eyes. She needed this woman to live and she would do everything within her power to make sure that she did. Maybe she, too, saw herself in in Emma.

Matilda was just on her way out the door to announce the child's birth and the mother's death when Djaq called her back.

"She still has a pulse! Take the child to a wet nurse but do not tell anyone Emma's condition. Just tell them that we are working on sewing her up. We do not want to get anyone's hopes too high, nor do we want people thinking that I used some sort of magic to bring her back from death's grip."

"Do you think she'll live then?" Matilda asked, her voice filled with same awe that Much was feeling.

"It is far too soon to know," was all Djaq would say and Matilda nodded and went to announce the birth of a living child.

As it turned out, sewing her up from the inside out took a lot more time and patience than cutting her open and Much was growing very _very_ tired. Of course, he didn't dare say so. That would hardly be fair. So he just handed her whatever she asked for, wiped away blood and replaced bandages whenever she told him to, and put his fingers wherever she directed him. He did all of this quickly and without comment.

But he was growing very worried about Djaq. She'd been on her feet nearly all day now and Much knew that his own neck, back, legs and feet were aching something awful, so he couldn't imagine what a pregnant woman must be feeling. And she hadn't had a privy break since they'd started, even though she usually went many times in a typical day.

But this wasn't a typical day.

And she seemed to have put herself on hold in order to save Emma and her child. Much admired her all the more for that and he suddenly understood why she would choose to do this. Why she—or anyone—would choose to be a physician. _This_ was why. This ability to take someone from the brink of death and somehow make them whole again. Give them a life and a future where none would've existed otherwise. It was exciting and empowering, yet humbling and terribly frightening all at the same time and Much was incredibly glad that he was a part of it. Even a small part.

Whether because of Djaq meticulously closing up the openings she'd made one by one, or due to the herbal concoction now starting to wear off, Emma's blood began to flow a bit more freely. Much knew that was both a good thing and a bad. Good because it meant that she was alive and getting a bit stronger, and bad because it meant that she was losing even more blood. So they had to work extra quickly to get her all closed up.

Eventually Djaq repaired all of the incisions—with Much carefully applying the Lady's mantle solution every step of the way—and they gently wrapped the area in clean and treated bandages. Djaq checked Emma's pulse and found it to be a little stronger than it had been before, which was, at least, a good sign.

When Matilda returned from taking the baby to the wet nurse, she and Much tried and tried to persuade Djaq to return to the camp. Much was sure that the others must be getting worried by now and Djaq hadn't eaten since this morning. But Djaq pulled a chair up to the side of the table and refused to budge until Emma woke up.

"You and I both know that with the amount of Mandrake you gave her she could be out for another couple of hours...maybe more," Matilda said. "At least have something to eat then a quick lie down in the bed over there. I'll wake you if there's any change. You have my word."

But Djaq refused to be persuaded.

Finally, Much tried the only thing he could think of that might be likely to work. Guilt.

"Will is going to get very worried. They've probably been back at camp for ages now and he'll be wondering what's happened. You remember how upset he was when you were trapped."

At this she turned to look at him sideways and he saw a faint but unmistakable smirk cross her features. "You are indeed a clever one, Lord Much. Very well. Let us go and explain what has happened here and then I will get cleaned up and come back."

She—and the others too, in fact—sometimes called him _Lord_ Much when they were teasing him for trying to be something that he wasn't. The title referred to his very brief but eventful time as the Lord of Bonchurch and, despite the fact that it was always said in jest, Much just couldn't bring himself to hate it.

"Good idea." Matilda said with a wink to Much.

As the two of them left Emma's small home and made their way toward the forest, Much gave her his arm for support and she gratefully accepted it.

"Perhaps I should stop off at the stream on the way. I do not think it would be a good idea to walk into camp looking like this."

Much gave her a quick once over and realized that she was right. She was so absolutely covered in blood that to look at her you'd think that she'd been in a terrible battle. He knew that the others would probably panic at the sight of her, seeing as they were all such worriers and not nearly as calm and collected as he and Djaq always were.

But just as he was about to agree, Will and Allan came running up to them—clearly on their way to find Djaq—looking about ready to kill Much.

"It's not her blood!" Much blurted before anyone could say anything.

"What in God's name happened?" Will asked.

"There was a difficult delivery and we had to...er _Djaq_ had to perform surgery. But everything's alright now. I was just taking her home." Much explained.

"I was going to wash and then come to tell you where I have been before heading back." she told Will and Allan.

Much had actually left out the washing part deliberately, not knowing what Will would say about him standing guard while Djaq bathed.

"You're going _back_? Why?" Will asked.

"Come, let us go to the stream and I will explain on the way."

"You're all bloodied up too," Allan said to Much. "Did you have trouble delivering and need surgery too?"

"Ha ha. Very funny, Allan." Much rolled his eyes.

"Well, I guess you're in good hands now," Much told Djaq as he stepped away from her causing her to almost topple over, only to be caught by Will. Apparently, she hadn't realized that Much had been holding her up for most of the walk from Locksley. Poor Djaq. She was even more tired than she realized.

Much was awfully tired too, come to think of it. And a hot meal and long nap would certainly be nice. _Once I've cooked the meal, that is, _Much grumbled to himself.

"Come on Much, I'll walk back with you. Let's let these two get on with their bath...or _whatever_." Allan grinned at the pair.

"Thank you," Will said to Much. "Thanks for looking out for her."

"I...I...uh...You're welcome."

"Much?" Djaq suddenly took both of his hands in hers and looked him right in the eyes. "That woman and her child would be dead if not for you. I could _never_ have done that without your help. Thank you."

Much was so surprised he had no idea how to respond. "I...I only did what you told me," he stammered.

"That was exactly what the situation required. There are many people who would not be able to do that and even fewer who could do it well. I know from experience that it can be very frightening and intimidating to be a part of something like that and all the while have someone speaking to you sharply and ordering you about. It takes a strong person to hold it together through all of that. You are a hero, Lord Much." And Much just knew that, this one time, the name wasn't meant to mock him.

Will and Allan both looked at him, astonished.

"Yes, well. Anytime you need my help, just ask." he replied with a bit more arrogance than he'd intended.

But Djaq merely nodded and said, "I will remember that. Thank you." And she went off in the direction of the stream with Will while Much and Allan made their way to the camp.

* * *

As Will and Djaq arrived at the stream and Will began helping her out of her sticky, bloody clothes, he said, "Shouldn't we go to the camp and get a change of clothes and your soap and stuff first?"

"Actually, I was hoping that you would run and get those things while I stayed here."

"You can't stay here alone." He said firmly.

"Will," she sighed, "you will not be gone long and I will be in the stream. No one will even see me as it is nearing dusk. I really want to get into the water as soon as possible. Besides, I could use a few moments to myself. It has been a long and difficult day and I would like the chance to collect my thoughts alone. Please."

Djaq could tell that he didn't like the idea, but he seemed to understand because he nodded quietly and waited while she slipped into the water before hurrying toward the camp.

Djaq spent the next few moments going over everything that had happened. Not just today, but over the past several months and even years.

There had been a time in her life when being a physician had been her most coveted goal. She had wanted so much to be just like her father. He was a great and talented healer and he had been respected by people from miles around because of his skill, dedication, and expertise.

At that time, Djaq—or Saffiya as she was then—could not have imagined anything better or more fulfilling than following in his footsteps. She had wanted to formally train just as he had done but life and war had other plans for her.

When her brother had gone off to war—never to return—and she had taken his identity with as much ease and as little thought as she had picked up his sword, she had found some of her training useful on the battlefield. And she had employed the same practical aspects in acting as the gang's physician ever since she had joined them.

But ever since she had begun her training with Matilda, Djaq had rediscovered her earlier hunger. That need to learn and to heal and to...almost..._conquer_ and _defeat_ death and illness. And that had gone a long way towards helping with how useless she was feeling lately being unable to do her part with Robin and the others.

But today...today she had managed to do something that not even her _father_ could have done. She had performed a very complicated surgery and saved two lives where she had not even expected to be able to save _one_. She knew that she hadn't done it on her own, and that Much, Matilda, Allah, and Emma's own will to live were all just as responsible for the victory as she was, and she also knew that Emma was not yet out of harm's way, but Djaq still could not help the feelings of pride and accomplishment that were coursing through her.

For the first time in a very long time, she felt the need and the strong desire to pray. But instead of kneeling and facing east, as she was required to do, she stood in the water and faced the west where the sun was making its final appearance of the day. She let the last remnants of its healing rays wash over her face and neck as she raised her chin to the sky and spoke softly.

"_Allah, You have granted me many second chances in this life and I thank You. I have been remiss in my prayers and I have allowed myself to feel the weight of all that surrounds me without seeking Your guidance. But yet You have blessed me with a wonderful husband and a beloved child. I have friends and family and I now have a purpose greater even than that to which I once aspired. I believe that I can be of help to the people of this land...the land of my husband and child....the land I once considered the home of my enemies. I do not presume to know your reasons or your motives, but I must wonder if it was not for this that you spared me during the times when I thought that death would be a blessing. You have given me the means by which to serve you. The means to bring advanced medical care to the poverty stricken of Nottingham. I thank You."_

She ended her untraditional prayer with the words she had memorized from childhood, "_Allahu Akbar. Subhana rabbiyal adheem. Sam'i Allahu liman hamidah, Rabbana wa lakal hamd. Allahu Akbar. Subhana Rabbiyal A'ala._"

When she had finished her prayer, she heard Will approaching and sighed contentedly as he joined her in the water and wrapped his arms around her. She leaned back against him and allowed him to wash her hair.

"We must be quick," she said. "My husband will be back very soon."

"Then we'd better not waste any time," he chuckled, leaning down to kiss her neck. "You seem to be in very good spirits, considering the day you've had."

"Yes. I am tired, but I feel better than I have felt in a long time."

"How so?"

"I feel...vital, I suppose. In a way that I have not in quite a while. I think that delivering that child today gave me back a piece of myself that had been missing for years. And then being able to save the mother as well made me realize that I can combine my old life with what I now have here in England, and that maybe I can make something completely new out of it. Something that is all _mine_. Do you understand?" She angled her neck and looked up at him.

"I think I do. And I'm glad. You _are_ vital. Not just to me, but to many people. I'm glad you realize it." He kissed her cheek. "Your father would be very proud of you," he whispered.

Djaq was touched and grateful that he knew her so well that he sometimes understood her thoughts without her having to voice them.

"Thank you," she whispered as she leaned back against him and let the water, the soap, the sun, and the strong hands of her husband wash away all of her fatigue.

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A/N:

_This was my first time writing a large portion of a chapter from Much's POV. I tried out different POVs while writing the "birth" scene, but in the end, Much seemed to be the best. I hope it was alright and not too hard to follow. I also hope that I kept him in-character to everyone's satisfaction._

_Oh, and before I forget, I'm hoping that this is completely unnecessary, but I suppose that I should issue a disclaimer. So here it is._

_Disclaimer: If you find yourself tempted to perform an emergency C-section on someone, please do not rely on the material contained in this chapter as your instruction manual. There._

_Also, before anyone decides to tell me so, I am well aware that mothers did not live through Cesarean births during the Middle Ages. But I have decided that Djaq is just awesome enough to pull it off. Sue me._

_On that note, I did experiment with the idea of having the mother die, but in the end, I opted for the Disney oh-so-happy ending. I hope it wasn't too clichéd or predictable._

_Much's thoughts on labor pains as God's punishment are certainly not my own._

_And (last one, I promise) I have done quite a bit of research for this story, but I am not a Muslim, Midwife, Physician, or Herbalist. Feel free to alert me to any mistakes that you find along those lines._

_Review? Please?_


	28. Events and Happenings

_**Warning: **_(Uh-oh!) This chapter contains sex. That's right. Sex. Consider yourself warned. =)

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Events and Happenings

As Djaq entered Emma's small dwelling, she exchanged pleasantries with a few of the village women inside. She removed her cloak and started to smooth out her hair before remembering that she'd decided to bind it in two small pig-tailed braids this morning. It had been growing steadily longer and she still couldn't make up her mind about whether she wanted to cut it short again or let it grow out completely. Will said that he had no preference and just wanted her to feel comfortable, so she'd settled on the braids as a temporary solution.

"He is a fine boy," she addressed her patient, who was holding her newborn infant in her arms.

"Aye, thanks to you," Emma replied, beaming at her.

"How are you feeling today? A bit stronger?" Djaq smiled at the renewed color in the woman's cheeks.

There had actually been quite a bit of doubt during the first couple of days as to whether or not she would ever wake up. She had remained unconscious for much longer than the expected effect of the drugs she'd ingested, but that wasn't a surprise considering the ordeal that her body had gone through.

Djaq had refused to leave her side that first night lest a fever develop or her stitching come undone and she not be around when needed. The camp was much too far away for her to be comfortable being away from her patient. Plus, the fact was, of course, that its location was _supposed_ to be a secret which would make it all the more difficult for anyone to send for her. So she had insisted on staying and Will—being unwilling to either leave her in Locksley without and escort _or_ spend a night without her—had stayed as well.

But there had seemed to be no sign of fever or infection and Emma had finally awoken near the end of the second day. She was still weak from the blood loss as well as the constant medication she was being given to control her pain and she was unable to nurse her son, but she _was_ able to hold him now without assistance—which was doing wonders for her recovery.

"I'm still sore, but I guess that's to be expected," Emma answered, motioning for someone to take the sleeping child from her arms so that Djaq could examine her.

"Yes. Your body has been through quite a lot," she said as she lifted the woman's gown and gingerly removed her bandages. "Good. There is no redness or swelling and the stitches are still nice and tight. I see no sign of blood coming through. Any new tenderness when I do this?" she asked as she gently applied pressure to the surrounding area.

"No," Emma hissed slightly in discomfort. "It's sore, but less than it was. That's good, right?"

"Yes, excellent," Djaq agreed as she went about examining the rest of her body for any ill effects of the surgery or any unhealthy reaction to the herbs she was being given.

After she had completed the check up and applied fresh bandaging, she smiled and said, "I am going to decrease the dosage of your pain medication once again. You are a very strong woman, Emma, with a will to live that not many possess. Your child is lucky to have such a mother."

Emma reached out and placed her hand over Djaq's warmly. "So is yours," she said with eyes shining in gratitude and admiration.

There was a soft knock at the door and one of the women—of whom many were milling about—carefully checked to see who it was. With Djaq in attendance, they all knew to be extra cautious.

"It's the Scarlett boy," Bessie, one of Matilda's most senior assistants, announced.

Upon hearing that Will was at the door, Djaq noticed a few fleeting glances from some of the other women. It certainly wasn't the first time that she had detected a touch of envy where Will was concerned. There was never anything blatant or even unfriendly about it, just a trace of something just below the surface of the smiles and kind words.

"Well let him in," Matilda replied—after rolling her eyes at the soft murmurs and darted looks from a few of the ladies present.

Djaq was used to a bit of that from women all over Nottingham. It stood to reason, she supposed, given her status as the only female in the gang of outlaws. Robin and his men had somehow managed the nearly impossible feat of becoming legends in their own time and place and that fact had naturally made them objects of desire and fantasy for many women...young or old, rich or poor, married or maiden.

There were even certain noblewomen whom the gang were convinced repeatedly rode through the forest unescorted with the deliberate intention of being stopped by the outlaws just so that they could sigh and swoon over the 'ordeal' to their friends later. These women always seemed rather disappointed when they were only relieved of their valuables and not their honor. It was, apparently, considered rather romantic by those who were either too bored or too foolish to know any better.

So there had always been some looks thrown in her direction even long before she had been with Will. And she had no doubt that there had been many in Nottingham who had simply assumed that Djaq's role in the gang included that of bed warmer to the outlaws. It used to frustrate and even humiliate her that, no matter how skilled a physician or accomplished a fighter she may be, there were those who could see her only one way. But she had since learned how to ignore it.

Ever since she and Will had married, however, she had seen an increase in the number of looks she got. She knew that part of it was simply the fact that she had married one of Robin's famous outlaws and had little to do with him personally. But she had also heard a number of stories about how Will, before becoming an outlaw, had been considered 'quite a catch'—as the English put it—as a potential husband. And his subsequent outlawing—rather than diminishing his appeal as one might expect—had only seemed to add to it.

Most of the girls with whom he had grown up were married now themselves, and so the looks were no more than the lingering memories of childish hopes unfulfilled. And the younger girls were merely nursing a girlish crush on someone they saw as a dangerous and heroic figure. Djaq was pretty sure that Will never even noticed any of the extra attention and _she_ really wasn't bothered by it. He was hers and she knew it.

Everyone did.

For as soon as he entered the house his eyes scanned the room until they landed on her face and then—just as it did every time he looked at her—_his_ face betrayed everything he felt for her and she was quite certain that everyone could see it. She often wondered how she had missed that look before their first night together. Could she really have been so blind? Or had he simply been very good at concealing it back then. Whatever the case, she couldn't help the swell of pride in her heart now as she marveled, not for the first time, that she had somehow—although love and romance had been the furthest things from her mind upon arriving in England—managed to unwittingly capture the heart of such a brilliant and loving man...one who could clearly have had his pick of women.

"I will only be a moment longer," she told him with a smile.

He nodded and smiled back at her sweetly, never taking his eyes off of hers. "I'll just wait outside then."

As he exited, she turned back to her patient. "There is one other thing that I need to speak with you about." She took a deep breath. "I do not know very much about the future effects this surgery will have on your womb, Emma. There does not seem to be any internal bleeding and the Shepherd's Purse seems to be doing its job at shrinking your womb back to its normal size. But I cannot, in good conscience, recommend that you have another child. I am sorry. I have no way of knowing whether your womb will be capable of housing a child or whether your body will be capable of a safe delivery. It would be best if, when your husband returns, you take precautions in order to prevent future pregnancies."

Djaq tried to remain stoic and professional, but she had been dreading this conversation.

"I...I wondered as much." Emma said, eyes lowered sadly for a moment before raising them to meet Djaq's. "But I have so much more than I expected to have. I can't really feel cheated, now can I?" She smiled, but Djaq could see that there was disappointment there too.

"I will return tomorrow to check on you," Djaq said with what she hoped was a reassuring smile.

"Thank you. For everything," Emma called out amid the many goodbyes as Djaq gathered her things and bid everyone farewell.

When she stepped outside she was immediately greeted by Will, who had his hood up.

"Ah, brilliant disguise. No one will ever recognize you now," she smirked.

"Yeah well, anything that fools the guards is good enough for me," he laughed, lowering his hood. "So how is she?" he asked, referring to Emma.

"She is recovering nicely," she answered as they started walking. "It is odd in a way. If we were in another part of the world, or if an English physician—a _male_ one—had performed this surgery successfully, the case would be written up and studied at length. We would be able to learn from it. But here, in this small village, it will go unnoticed by the world at large."

"Does it bother you? That no one will know what you did for her?" he asked sympathetically.

"No. It is not that. But just think of how many physicians simply assume that a woman could not possibly survive such a procedure. Just like I did. So, like me, they do not even wish to attempt it unless the mother is dead. But if they knew that it _could_ be successful..that the mother _could _-just _possibly_-survive, then more of them might try it and then we could learn even more. There would be progress. As it stands, this outcome will go unrecorded and nothing will be learned from it."

"I'm sorry. That _is_ a shame. But _you_ should write it down. Then at least there'll be some record. Maybe one day someone will benefit from it."

"Yes. Perhaps that will have to do." She loved that he was so very sensible. "Still, I do not mean to complain. Emma is getting better by the day and that is what matters."

"And her baby?" Will asked as he reached for her hand, interlacing their fingers. When his calloused fingers brushed her palm, she felt her heart thump a little harder. She _loved_ his hands. They said everything about him. They were strong and good, hard-working and talented, honest and gentle.

"Matilda says that he is thriving."

"That's good. Are you very tired? Do you want to head straight back to camp? Or do you want to walk a bit more?"

It was autumn and the leaves were a beautiful array of rich oranges and ambers, deep reds and violets. The entire forest seemed to light up like one bright smoldering fire, keeping the oncoming chill of winter at bay, yet chasing away the heat of summer. Djaq loved the forest in autumn.

"Let's walk," she answered, smiling and leaning her head against his shoulder as they went. "So the deliveries went well? No problems?"

"No _problems_, no." There was an odd tone to his voice that she recognized at once. "But there are three new families to add to our list. Sometimes it feels like we're just not doing enough," he said sadly, shaking his head.

"I know that it feels that way at times, but these people are so much better off than they would be if we did nothing. Think of all the families we have made a difference for."

"But the nobles just seem to get _richer_, you know. Maybe Marian had the right idea. Why should they care about a measly ten percent when they've got so _much_. Maybe we _should_ take more."

"Perhaps you should bring it up to Robin." She gave his hand a squeeze. "But you already know my thoughts on this. I do not think that taking more would really matter. I think that every time the peasants are able to make their tithe payments, the Sheriff thinks to himself that they must have it too easy. Like maybe they have an excess. So he raises taxes. He tries to squeeze just a little bit more out of them. But if the people are _not_ able to pay, they are jailed or beaten or hanged. So we _must_ give them what they need to pay the taxes. But in order to do so, we take it from the the Sheriff or the nobles, which leaves _them_ short in their payments to Prince John. Which only means higher taxes for the villagers the _next_ time. It never ends."

"It's like we do all this for nothing."

"No. Not for nothing. We are keeping people alive, month to month. It was never meant to be a permanent solution. It was meant to help them until your king returns. Maybe then things will improve." Although Djaq did not really place any faith in the English king, she could at least reasonably hope that Robin might recover his own lands upon the king's return. That would mean a better life for those who lived in Locksley at least. And maybe others too.

"I know, I'm just...with winter right around the corner, I start to get...I don't know..." he trailed off.

"I know, my love. I know." She reached up and touched his cheek softly. Winters were particularly hard for the villagers. Food was scarce and there were fewer nobles on the road for the outlaws to rob. Djaq knew that Will was remembering his family's _own_ difficult winters and thinking of all that his mother sacrificed for her family. He was the type of man who would spend his whole life fighting so that no one else ever had to endure such pain and loss.

"But _this_ winter will be full of _blessings_ too," he said, a hopeful smile forming on his lips. "By the time winter comes this year, the baby will be born. Our family'll be complete. I can't wait."

"Neither can I." She smiled at his eagerness. She knew that he already had years' worth of plans for all of the things he wanted to teach and do with their child. He was going to be a wonderful father.

"I love you," he said sweetly.

"And I love _you_," she answered. "Perhaps after a bit, we can find a secluded spot to take a break."

"Are you getting tired already?" he asked considerately.

"No, silly. I thought that we could spend some _time_ together. It has been a while," she said, leaning into him a little more suggestively. She felt him immediately tense at her side and a twinge went through her chest. "You...you do not want to?" she tried to mask the hurt she was feeling.

"It's not that," he insisted quickly. "It's just that...there's a slight chill in the air and we shouldn't be out too long. I wouldn't want you to get sick," he finished weakly. He knew as soon as the words had left his mouth that they were stupid and wouldn't be enough to fool her.

It wasn't the first time that she had offered herself to him recently and he'd made excuses. In fact, they hadn't made love in over a week. Now, Will didn't know if that was a long time for _other_ married people, but he and Djaq usually made love every single _day_...sometimes _more_ than once a day if they could manage to get away from the others. They always spent at least three quarters of their bath time wrapped up in each other and they often found time throughout the day to slip off for an hour or so as well.

"I see," Djaq answered tersely. She was very tempted to lash out at her husband and say something very hurtful. It had always been her habit to react to hurt with anger. It kept her strong and fierce and left her in no danger of appearing too weak or vulnerable. She hated appearing vulnerable. Hell, she hated _being_ vulnerable.

But the pregnancy and especially Will had opened something softer in her and she refused to let herself unleash her anger on him. Besides, he didn't _mean_ to hurt her, she was sure. He simply did not _want_ her in that way and he was trying to be as kind about it as he could.

She knew that her body had taken on such an odd shape that she barely resembled a _woman_ anymore. Although she could not remember the last time she'd been able to see her ankles or her feet, she knew that they were at least double their normal size, and that even her _face_ had gotten fat.

Plus, Matilda had mentioned to her—not in reference to Will, just in general—that men sometimes have a difficult time seeing their wives in a sexual way once they start to view them as mothers. At the time, Djaq had considered herself quite fortunate that she would never have to worry about that with Will. He had always been _very_ attentive sexually and she had been sure that he would always want her as much as she wanted _him_. But she could no longer convince herself that his behavior was anything other than rejection and disinterest. She knew that he loved her deeply. She would never doubt that again. But, despite her best efforts, he just didn't want to make love to her.

She _supposed_ that the problem could be that her appetite for him was simply too ravenous. After all, she craved him almost _constantly_. But it was not only his body that made her feel so good—although _that_, of course, was a big part of it—it was really so much more. It was the way that he held her...securely yet so tenderly that she felt thoroughly cocooned and completely safe in his love. And it was the way that he looked at her when they made love...staring into her eyes like she was his whole world...his _everything_.

She had been hardened and sullied by years of grief, death, war and slavery. She'd had to steel herself for the life of an outlaw in an English forest amongst men—dressing, talking, fighting, cursing like one of them. But none of that mattered under his loving gaze. Because in those moments, when they connected so completely, he peeled away those layers of grime and guilt and she was suddenly something else altogether. She was beautiful...precious...even almost _innocent _again.

She needed him. All of him. All the time. And sometimes she could barely wait until they were alone to start tugging off his clothes or shoving her hand down his breeches. She blushed now as she thought of her behavior. It wasn't very ladylike. Not at all. But Will hadn't seemed to mind it before. In fact, he'd always seemed to love how eager she was with him and had often told her as much. Not even her ever-changing size and shape had been able to slow them down as the two of them had experimented with every position ever known to man—as well as a few that Djaq was certain they had invented themselves—in order to accommodate her belly.

But maybe she asked for too much too often. Or maybe it was her awkward body. Or maybe what Matilda said about _some_ men applied to Will as well and he just didn't see her that way anymore. Djaq didn't know. All she _did_ know was that she missed him. A lot.

"Djaq, I..." he trailed off, unsure what to say. How could he explain without becoming flustered and stammering like a fool. They were extremely close and they talked about absolutely _everything_. Even things that he used to be sure he would never be comfortable discussing or doing with another living _soul_. But this was different. Wasn't it? He didn't want her to _feel_ bad.

"Look, Will," she said, stopping to face him. "Just...say what is on your mind and then I will know and I can stop guessing," she said with much more of an edge to her voice than she had intended.

For a moment he didn't say anything. He just reached out with his index finger and absently stroked one of her braids while he thought of a way to explain himself. "I just don't want to take advantage of you," he finally admitted quietly without meeting her eyes.

"Take advantage of... Will, what on earth are you talking about? I am your wife. How could you _possibly_ take advantage of me?" she demanded.

"Well, it's just that you're so very _pregnant_ now," he began. But as soon as he saw the look that crossed her face he knew that he must have said something wrong.

All of Djaq's fears came rushing to the surface as he spoke the words she'd dreaded. Part of her had maintained the hope that there was a perfectly harmless and simple answer that she had merely overlooked.

But it was true...her husband no longer desired her.

Will thought he would die when he saw her lower lip begin to tremble despite the enormous effort she was obviously putting into not reacting. He wondered how he had hurt her. He mentally went back over his words but he still had no clue.

"Djaq, _please_ don't cry," he begged, reaching out and gathering her into his arms protectively. She folded into him and laid her head against his chest as he kissed the top of her head and ran his hands up and down her sides.

Then, the unthinkable happened.

He could feel himself growing hard and he cursed silently, hoping that it would simply go away before she noticed it.

He shouldn't have been surprised, really. After all, just the sight or mere _thought_ of Djaq seemed to make his body come alive. But seeing her hurt and on the verge of tears should _certainly_ not have that effect on him. No. That was just _wrong_. It was just that it had been so long since they'd made love and he missed her in the _worst_ possible way. And here she was, pressed up against him and he supposed that his body just got confused.

Djaq could feel him stiffening with arousal and she was momentarily stunned. What was this? Had he not just admitted that he did not find her desirable at this stage of her pregnancy? So why did his body say otherwise? She stepped back to look up into his face and saw the deep blush that tinted his cheeks.

"I do not understand," she said. "I thought that you did not want me in that way. So what is _this_?"

"Not _want_ you?" he asked incredulously. "Djaq, are you _crazy_? Do you have any idea how hard it's been trying to force myself to keep my _hands_ off you?"

She giggled foolishly at his words. She couldn't _help_ it. It wasn't even all that funny, she knew, but her heart was just suddenly so _light_ as she was flooded with relief that he _wanted_ her. Will still _wanted_ her.

"What's so funny?" he asked, narrowing his eyes suspiciously over her rapid change in mood.

"You said that _it _has been_ hard_ to stay away from me. Do you not see the irony in your choice of words, Will? _It_ has been _hard_? Like... Oh never mind," she said at the look of amusement and mild reproof that he gave her. He never knew quite what to make of her rather crude and brazen sense of humor, she knew. "I am sorry. I should not laugh. It is only that...I am so _happy_. I thought that you no longer desired me...because of my body and me being so close to being a mother...and perhaps because I demand too much sex from you. And now I find out that you have been _forcing_ yourself not to touch me?" She continued to laugh for a moment more as Will waited, a look of relieved indulgence now on his face.

Seeming to recall something troubling, she stopped laughing. Will saw her confidence falter slightly as she looked up at him. "Why would you do that though? Why would you not wish to touch me if you still desire me?"

"_Because_," he said desperately, "you're so _good_ to me, my love. You always want to make me happy. And I know that no matter how much your body hurts or how tired you are, you won't want to tell me _no_. It's getting harder and harder—" He looked at her with a quick disapproving smirk before deciding to choose different words. "It's getting more and more _difficult_ for us to find a position that's comfortable for you...and I...I don't want my desires to...to be a _burden_ to you."

"Oh Will. How could you ever think that? You know how much I _love_ being with you. How much I need you. Do I not show you that everyday?"

"But I don't want you to feel like you _have_ to do it just to make me happy. I'm happy with you anyway. I love you. I'm afraid that even if you don't feel up to it, you'll feel bad knowing that _I_ want to." He looked down sheepishly before adding, "So I've been trying not to let you see how bad I want to."

"Thank you for trying to be so considerate of me, but you should _ask_ me what I want if you are uncertain. Do not presume to know and then try to protect me without my knowledge. I cannot believe that you and I almost fell into the same predicament that we were in before. Both of us assuming that we knew what the other felt and both of us being wrong...we must stop _doing_ that."

"I'm so sorry I made you feel unwanted, my love." He leaned down so his face hovered just above hers, their lips almost touching. "I'm sorry that you were hurt. I thought you were offering yourself just to try to give me what _I_ wanted." He tightened his grip on her and kissed her slowly and deeply.

There was a promise in that kiss and she felt a rush of excitement shoot through her entire body, ending in a tingling mass of warmth in her belly. "How could you think that I did not _want_ you?" she asked breathlessly when the kiss ended.

"How could _you_ ever think that? You're the most desirable woman I have ever laid _eyes_ on." His breathing was heavy, his pupils dilated to the point where his eyes were but two dark pools of want, the deep green barely visible around the rims. "You're more beautiful today than the first time I made love to you. I mean that. I will _always_ want you, Djaq. And the fact that you're about to have my baby only makes me love and want you _more_."

"Then what are we waiting for?" she challenged, fixing him with an almost predatory gaze and winding her arms up around his neck.

He immediately captured her lips possessively...greedily—nibbling, pulling, sucking—as he carefully backed her into the nearest out of the way spot. She pushed off his cloak and dropped it onto the ground beneath them where he gently laid her down and began frantically removing their clothing around fumbling caresses and whispered pleas.

Their kisses became more impatient, both of them breathlessly murmuring completely unintelligible declarations of love and pent-up need as they clawed at one another, scrambling out of their clothes, desperate to get as close as possible. Hands and lips and tongues and bodies frantically sought out their counterparts.

And then he was inside her...probing, pleasing, pushing. And she pushed back, urgently, crying out as he claimed more and more of her with every thrust.

"Will..._Oh_ Will..."

"_Djaq_...You're _mine_...I missed you...I love you..." he murmured against her skin.

"I love you...I love you, Will..."

She was _this close—_he could feel it—and, in a brief moment of clarity, he realized that they were still near enough to Locksley that they might possibly be overheard. Djaq could be _very_ loud sometimes in the throes of passion. He really didn't think she'd particularly care at that _moment_, but he didn't want her to be embarrassed afterward. So he swiftly covered her mouth with his own in a fiery kiss as she climaxed, helplessly shuddering against him through muffled cries. He released his seed inside of her at nearly the same moment, trying hard to control his own desperate urge to be vocal...to shout to the heavens that he loved this woman..that she was _his_.

Afterward, both of them remained motionless...panting, sated, drowning in the euphoria of post coital relief. It took a long time for their hearts to stop racing and even longer for them to stop clinging, possessively, to one another's bodies. But when they did, Djaq was the first to find her voice.

"I do not know how I will live without you after the baby is born," she managed, still catching her breath as she snuggled against his side—any space between them suddenly feeling unnatural somehow.

"What d'you mean?" he asked, almost drunkenly. "You _never_ have to be without me, my love." And he leaned over and placed gentle, feather-light kisses along her breasts and up over her bulging stomach.

"I mean while we are waiting for my body to recover and purge itself after the birth," she explained carefully, realizing for the first time that she may have forgotten to mention it to him before.

He propped himself up on one elbow and looked down at her. "How long will _that_ take?" he asked, almost afraid of the answer, as he lazily trailed little circles around her bellybutton with his middle finger.

"It um...it should not be longer than a moon cycle. Did...Did I forget to mention that?" she asked sheepishly.

"I think you must _have_ because I'm _sure_ I would've remembered something like that," he sighed in exasperation that was only half feigned. "Well, if we have to wait then that's what we'll do...but I don't know how we'll manage."

"I guess that we will simply have to get a lot of extra practice in _now_ so that we do not forget what to do after such a long break," she smiled at him wickedly.

"You are _very_ naughty," he scolded playfully.

"Am I? Whatever will you do with me?" she asked innocently, biting her lower lip.

He growled deep in his throat as he leaned over her once again. "Oh I can think of many things." And he consumed her in a tender kiss—one that was neither hurried _nor_ impatient this time.

Hours later, as they walked into camp very exhausted but _extremely_ happy, they could tell that they had walked into the middle of an argument.

Apparently, while Will and Djaq were out, Marian had received word from her father that he had completed what he'd set out to do and was waiting for her in Cestrefeld over in Derbyshire. Before Sir Edward had left Nottingham, he, Robin and Marian had decided that, once his visitations on behalf of the king were finished, Marian would ride out to meet him and the two would reenter Nottingham together—making periodic stops along the way so that she would be seen with him. That way, no one would have any reason to suspect that she hadn't been with her father—visiting his sick friend—the entire time.

The plan was a solid one and Robin and Marian were to leave at first light. Much however, worrier that he was, got it into his head that Marian—being a maiden—shouldn't make the few days' journey with Robin alone. He thought the two needed a chaperone. Of course, he didn't call it a chaperone. He turned red, got flustered, and called it 'someone to be around just to make sure nothing...er..._happens_.' Which was, of course, what a chaperone was for.

The outlaws often teased Much about being so very prim and proper. And it _was_ _odd_. Despite his gender, his humble background, and the rather coarse life of an outlaw, he always seemed to hold to the very high expectations and ideals of an aristocratic old lady. He never laughed at bawdy jokes and Djaq was _sure_ that most off-color humor actually went right over his head. He frequently clicked his tongue at things he deemed inappropriate and the times that Djaq had found herself angry enough to swear in English had left him muttering disapprovingly for days afterward.

Marian, naturally, looked extremely uncomfortable at her honor being the topic of general conversation, and Robin—being...well, _Robin_—merely laughed at Much's suggestion and declared himself perfectly capable of handling things without any help. Will and Allan laughed as well and agreed that Much was just being silly and that Robin had everything under control. John and Djaq said very little—both thinking that such a conversation was a matter for Robin and Marian alone, and not the entire gang.

But Much grew more agitated and insistent, even going so far at one point as to cite Djaq as a perfect example of just what he meant.

"What _about_ Djaq?" Will demanded.

"You know perfectly well what I'm talking about! One night alone with her and you...you..._you_ _ruined_ _her_!" Much blurted. Then, realizing what he'd just said, he immediately covered his mouth with both hands as if he could somehow push the words back in.

But it was too late.

In an instant, Will, Allan, and John were on their feet. Marian looked more shocked than Djaq had ever seen her. Robin just rolled his eyes as if Much's outburst merely proved what an idiot he was. Will's fist was clenched and Djaq could see him struggling to regain his temper, while John and Allan both stepped forward—although whether to _stop_ Will from pummeling Much or to _help_ him do it, she really couldn't guess.

"I didn't mean that, Djaq," Much looked at her desperately, shaking his head, apparently more worried about offending _her_ than the reaction of the men. "Really I didn't. I only meant that...well...things sometimes happen and..." he drifted off, looking at the floor.

"Mind your tongue, Much! The rest of you, sit _down_!" she ordered. She was no delicate flower and his words, while inappropriate and careless, were certainly not enough to hurt her feelings or wound her pride. She had lived through some of the worst circumstances imaginable and someone reminding her of her lost virtue didn't even rank on the list. But she didn't want this to get out of hand and she knew that Much calling her honor into question was a sure way to take this from an argument to a full blown fight between the men. "_Now_!"

John and Allan were so shocked by her tone that they complied immediately. But Will moved closer to Much until he was towering over him, leaning down so his face was right over the other man's. "Let that be the _last_ thing you ever say about my _wife_," he hissed in a low and dangerous voice.

"Enough! I understand what you were trying to say, Much. But certain things do not concern you," Djaq said wearily. "About me _or_ Marian."

Will glanced at her to see if she was alright and she nodded at him almost imperceptibly.

"Sorry Djaq," Much mumbled as Will—clearly still fuming—took his seat.

"Maybe we should consider it," Marian said to Robin in an undertone but which everyone heard anyway.

"I don't _need_ to consider it. I'm perfectly capable of handling this on my own."

"You mean _we_ are," Marian reminded him a little indignantly.

"Fine. _We_ are. But "_we"_ don't need someone else along to get in the way," Robin stated.

"I wouldn't—I mean _they_ wouldn't get in the way," Much said in a hurt voice. "It would just be wise to have someone along for the sake of propriety."

Marian seemed to agree, which made Robin pout angrily.

In a way, Djaq understood Robin's frustration. He and Marian had gotten much closer during her time in the forest and things were about to change abruptly. She'd go back to Knighton with her father and she and Robin would sneak around and spend time with one another whenever they could manage to. Gone would be the long walks, the shared meals, and the hushed conversations as they cuddled up together before moving to their respective beds for the night. This short trip to meet her father was their last chance to spend any quality time together for who knew how long and he wanted to make the most of it. Djaq could hardly blame him for that.

But she also understood why Marian might be wary of spending that time all alone with him. The trip would be bittersweet for both of them—serving as their first big adventure off alone together as well as a wistful goodbye to the closeness to which they'd grown accustomed. Combining their sadness at the prospect of parting, with the recklessness that was inherent to both of them could be a very dangerous thing. Marian would surely want to do all she could to minimize the chances of the two of them getting carried away one night under a starry sky with no one but the moon to bear witness. After all, Much was right...sometimes things just _happen_.

The child in Djaq's belly was proof enough of that.

"Look," Robin didn't look at anyone and so they had no idea which of them he was addressing. "I've already made up my mind about this and Marian and I are going alone. That's final."

"Oh really? It seems to me that I ought to have some say in the matter too. Naturally I would have preferred to discuss this in private," she glared at Much, "but since it's all out in the open now, we may as well settle it here and now. I want someone to accompany us. And _that's_ final," Marian informed Robin.

"Oh come on, Marian," Robin whined. "You know how it'll be. He'll never give us a moment's—"

"Much, I am afraid that I must ask you to reconsider," Djaq broke in, causing everyone to look her way. "My time is drawing near and I may need you here with me if there is difficulty."

She knew that Robin was on the verge of saying some very nasty things about Much and she wanted to spare Much that. But, what was more, she was all too aware of the treatment he would be subjecting himself to if he accompanied Robin and Marian. He would never give the pair a moment's peace, it was true. He would remain blissfully ignorant of all hints that they might like a bit of time alone together. And when Robin became sullen due to Much's constant chatter and interference, Much would just try all that much harder to please. He would be extra attentive in trying to soothe what he would probably see as Robin's fatigue and worry over the journey itself. Serving only to make matters worse.

Finally, Robin would become so fed up with Much's 'helpfulness' and constant presence, he would lash out and say things to Much that most men wouldn't dare say to their dog. It had happened before, and it would happen again. But this time they would be out on the road together and there would be no way for Much to distract himself from his misery. And the trip back with just the two of them would be even worse with Robin brooding over Marian's absence and Much doing everything within his power to cheer him up.

No. It was far better for Much if he just stayed put. Even if that meant that he would fret and whine and drive the rest of them _crazy_ until Robin returned.

"But, your time isn't for over a month yet. We'll be back within a fortnight at the longest," Much said desperately. Djaq could see that he was now torn between what he perceived as his duty to his "master" and the fact that she might really need him.

"Yes, but...such things are never exact," she answered. She saw Robin wink at her in gratitude and she had a strong desire to get up and smack him across the back of the head. The fool. She wasn't doing this for _him_, so that he could run around the countryside all alone with Marian. She was doing it to spare Much's feelings.

"But Marian said she wanted someone along and if I stay here, who will—"

"I'll go," John said suddenly. "I'll travel with them to Cestrefeld and then on the way back, I'll part from Robin. I need to stop off in Bolsover."

"You're going to see Alice and your son," it wasn't a question and as Robin spoke, he was more like his old self and less like a spoiled child than he'd been since Will and Djaq had arrived mid-argument. His surprise was evident, as was his concern for his friend. "John, are you sure that's wise?"

"Aye. I've been thinking about it for a while. I won't let 'em see me. Don't want my boy getting confused. But I need to see for myself that they're settled and happy. Then I'll come home."

He said the last sentence while looking directly at Djaq. Her heart felt so heavy. She knew that he'd been having a very difficult time coming to terms with the fact that there would be a child amongst them soon...a child who was not Little Little John. She could only imagine how heartbreaking it was for him to reconcile the fact that he'd be involved in _her_ child's life from the start, while he missed out on his own child's life entirely. She hated that he felt he had to get away.

She nodded at him, not really certain what she should say.

"Well, I suppose that would solve things then," Robin said after taking a moment to think it all over. "You'll accompany Marian and myself and Much can stay here in case Djaq needs him."

Djaq knew that John would be a far preferable traveling companion for Robin and Marian. He would hang back on the ride to Derbyshire, letting the two have as much space as they wanted without chattering on endlessly or sulking about it. He wasn't fussy and would accept any weather conditions, sleeping accommodations, rough terrain, or poor meals without any complaint. And he would serve as a chaperone in only the barest capacity—which would satisfy the demands of both Marian _and_ Robin. It really was the perfect solution.

"Well, I...I _suppose_ that might work," Much stammered, unable to come up with a reason why it wouldn't. He could hardly suggest that John _not_ go—not after John had expressed his intention to see his son. But everyone understood that when Much had been saying they needed to take someone along, he'd naturally assumed it would be _him_. So he was rather crestfallen.

"Right then. That's settled. What's for supper, Much?" Robin inquired, rubbing his hands together and looking to Much as though there had never been an argument.

As the excitement died away and everyone found some way to occupy themselves before supper, John came to sit in front of Djaq.

"I'm sorry to be leaving so close to your time," he said in a voice that was softer than any she'd ever heard him use. "I don't mean to let you down, I just think that I need to do this now."

"No. You should not apologize. Of course you must do this. He is your son," she said sincerely. "And you are not letting me down. I know that this has been difficult for you, John. I know that a child in the forest...in the camp...well it changes everything. Will and I have spoken of perhaps going to live elsewhere. We could—"

"No! This is your home. You belong here. I know I haven't been very...I just keep thinking about...I just wonder how things might've been had I not been such a coward. If I hadn't left them all alone." He lowered his head.

"You are no coward, John. You did what you thought best at the time. You did not even _know_ about your son. You are far too hard on yourself. And I know that this child must bring up many unpleasant thoughts and feelings for you. I understand why you feel you need to go. But John...you _will_ come back, will you not?" she asked carefully.

"Aye. Don't you worry, Little One. I'll be back."

She was touched and startled at the term of endearment—it being so unlike him to say such a thing—especially as it was the same one she used when addressing her own child. She didn't know what to say and he suddenly seemed uncomfortable as well, so they merely nodded at one another in mutual understanding.

* * *

Djaq ran a hand over one of the sturdy wooden beams and nodded approvingly at the solid craftsmanship.

"And what is _this_ for?" she asked as Will gave her a guided tour of their new bed.

"Open it," he said excitedly.

She pulled down the small hatch directly above the bed and a steady stream of sunlight came through. She turned and gave him a very impressed smile and his heart leapt.

"See? Now when you're in here and you have the curtain closed while you're feeding the baby, you can still let some sunlight or moonlight in if you need it. So it won't be so dark."

"You are brilliant," she said proudly.

"So...you like it then?"

It wasn't exactly the surprise he was making it out to be, he knew. After all, she'd watched him work on it everyday since the others had gone. He'd been wanting to make them a bigger bed for a while now. Djaq's old bunk was just too small for the two of them—especially considering her current size—and now that the weather was starting to cool off leaving fewer travelers on the road, _and_ there were three less people in the camp to maneuver around, he'd finally had the chance to work on it.

He'd made this one further away from where the others slept so that Djaq could have some privacy while feeding the baby once it was born. In addition to being wider, the new bed also had more vertical space so that they could sit comfortably in it without having to crouch—well, _he_ could...Djaq never really had to crouch. He'd put up a new curtain and combined their old bedrolls for the new sleeping surface too.

All in all, it had turned out pretty well, with Allan and Much giving him a hand when he'd needed it. He'd actually wanted to surprise her with it and had originally considered building it out in the forest and just assembling the pieces inside the camp once the work was complete, but he really didn't like the idea of lying to her about what he was doing—even for a good cause. Somehow, though, he had managed to convince her not to peek at his progress until it was all finished. Which it now was.

"I love it! You are the best husband _ever_!" And she gave him a great big kiss—which he, of course, enthusiastically accepted. "It is so much bigger and now we can have a bit of light if we wish. And perhaps the baby's cries will not be nearly so disruptive to everyone now that we will be farther away. Will you break up our old beds now so that everyone will have more room to walk about over there?"

"I don't know," he answered, a bit surprised by her excitement. He'd wanted so badly to make it perfect for her that he'd actually been rather nervous about her reaction. "I forgot to ask Robin about that when I talked to him about building a new bed before he left. I'll wait and see what he says. But you're sure you like it?"

"Silly man! You know that it is brilliant. Stop being so modest," she admonished with a playful shove. "I want to put the cradle right here. Right beside the bed so that the baby will be close to us all through the night. Will you get it now so that we may see where it sits best?"

He returned a moment later with the cradle, which they had been storing out of the way in the camp for the last few months, and he patiently placed it here and there in front of the bed as she decided where it suited her best. He was highly amused by this "nesting" that was so unlike her and by the way that her little pigtails flopped against her shoulders as she flounced around—hands on hips—concentrating on choosing just the right spot.

Much and Allan laughed at him from the other side of the camp because he must have moved that darn cradle a hundred _times_ at least—when there were only a few places it could realistically go—and still she would scrunch up her nose, shake her head and have him move it once again. But he didn't care. He would gladly do this all day long if it made her happy. Especially since, every few minutes, she would trace a finger over the carvings on the cradle's headboard and smile to herself. Then his heart would swell with pride.

They all stopped what they were doing as one of their alarms rang out in the camp.

"Alarm. Travelers on the road," Much announced unnecessarily, as he and Allan reached for their weapons.

Will grabbed his axe. "I'll be back. Don't you _dare_ try to move that cradle around by yourself." And he kissed her forehead and the tip of her nose and used one of her little braids to tickle her cheek. "I _mean_ it."

She nodded and he thought he saw a flash of worry behind her eyes. It wasn't like her to worry unnecessarily, but there had been only the three of them—Will, Allan, and Much—since Robin, Marian and John had departed over a week ago and everything took on a slightly more dangerous edge with such depleted numbers. They were careful not to embark on anything that the three of them couldn't handle, but still, given how close Djaq was to delivering their child, it made sense that she might be a little more worried than usual that something might take him away from her.

"We'll just go have a look, see how many there are. I'll be right back," he repeated reassuringly, though now as much for himself as for her. He was never reckless if he could help it but he was even more determined than ever to keep himself safe for his family.

"I know," she said with an encouraging smile as he left.

When he stepped outside, Much and Allan were waiting for him and the three men quietly made their way to the trap that had been sprung. The trap itself—a net connected to a felled tree blocking the road—was simple but effective and was large enough to scoop up and hold at least five normal sized men. Once the outlaws were able to ascertain how many men were left on the ground, they could decide what to do next.

Typically a nobleman stayed on his horse or in his carriage and had his guards or his driver do the menial work of moving the stump, so the outlaws never released the trap until they had determined how many men were still a threat and had dealt with them and their goods. Then, once the gang had disappeared again into the trees, they would tug a rope that lowered the net and freed its occupants.

Now, with only the three of them, it was even _more_ important to be alert and prepared for anything.

However as they approached, they were met with a scene that was nothing like what they were expecting.

There was a lone cart on the path and a solitary figure dangling in the net—no visible guards or servants anywhere to be found. But that wasn't the strange part. The strange part was that the captive didn't seem the least bit put out over his predicament. In fact, he was whistling. _Whistling_!

Will, Allan and Much exchanged curious looks as they listened and watched intently to determine whether this was some kind of trick and more men were waiting to jump out and seize them. When they heard and saw no one else and were relatively certain that the man was alone, they spread out and slowly approached him from different sides. But before they could begin their speech—_This is how it goes...There's poor people going hungry...— _the man himself stopped them in their tracks by shouting down good-naturedly in an accented voice, "Ah. Zere you are. Now which of you good men is zee famous Robin `ood? Eh?"

**_

* * *

_**

**_A/N:_**I really must apologize to everyone because this was actually meant to be the final chapter before Djaq gives birth. However its contents proved to be too long and unwieldy for just one chapter—sadly, writing short chapters is not a talent I've been blessed with, as you've undoubtedly noticed—and so I have actually split it up and reworked the final few chapters to accommodate this change. So there will be one more before the 'birth' chapter. Sorry! In a related story, it's actually been almost nine months since I began this story, which I think is rather funny/fitting given the subject matter. Maybe I can get the whole thing posted by the 23rd of this month, making it nine months exactly. We'll see.


	29. A Visitor in the Forest

Previously on "Consequences":

Robin and Marian rode out to Derbyshire to meet up with Marian's father, with John along for the ride.

Djaq was left alone at the camp while Will, Allan and Much went out to investigate one of their alarms. When the men arrived on the scene, they discovered a lone cart on the road and a stranger caught in one of their traps. He was whistling—apparently unconcerned—and when he spotted them he called down good-naturedly, "Ah. Zere you are. Now which of you good men is ze famous Robin `ood? Eh?"

* * *

**A Visitor in the Forest**

Djaq looked down at the pile of rabbits she'd killed and brought home this morning and sighed as she realized that she still had a long way to go. She was seated near the cook area of the camp with a large gutted rabbit held firmly between her knees as she made quick work of skinning the animal.

She tossed the carcass onto one growing pile and the skin onto another, careful not to waste any part of it. The meat would be dried and stored for the gang's use as well as for distribution to the villagers during the bare winter months. And the furs would be stitched together to make quilts for keeping the outlaws warm on the coldest of nights.

Since Robin, John, and Marian had departed for Derbyshire over a week ago, the gang's deliveries naturally took Will, Allan, and Much twice as long to complete. That meant that Djaq was left at the camp—alone—far more often than she was used to these days. She could hardly complain of course—considering _they_ were the ones putting in the extra time and work—and she really wasn't resentful at all. She just missed the activity and the company. So she'd taken to hunting to not only fill the time, but also as a means of staving off her growing restlessness.

Allan and Much had initially expressed concern, saying that it was just too dangerous an activity for her right now. Djaq had simply been content to ignore their protests, but Will had felt it necessary to explain to them that she was a skilled and experienced hunter—which she felt they should already _know_—and that she was always very careful not to venture too far from the camp on her own.

Besides, the activity wasn't even particularly _taxing_ seeing as she really only hunted small woodland creatures. She'd learned her lesson about targeting larger quarry a few days ago when she'd proudly taken down a buck—with one clean shot to the heart—only to find herself unable to drag it back to camp. So she'd had to stand by and guard it for hours lest some forest-scavenging creature get hold of it. Finally one of the boys—Allan as it turned out— had returned and hauled it home for her.

So she now stuck to rabbits and the like. But since the outlaws actually already _had_ several snares in place around the forest for just such a purpose, they just couldn't understand her need to go out hunting each day and they had taken to teasing her almost incessantly over her new pastime. And Much thought that it was a terrible waste of perfectly good arrows—even though she'd explained to him over and over again that, seeing as she almost always hit her mark on the first shot, she could simply remove the arrow from the dead animal and use it again.

But they just didn't get it.

The fact was that it made her feel active and useful and she really needed that just now. Besides, they couldn't really expect her to sit around all day and await their return. Now could they? And frankly, short of twiddling her thumbs or taking up _embroidery_, she'd run out of things to do around the camp.

She made sure that her herbs and medicines were always sorted, she kept all of the blades and tools sharpened, oiled and stored away properly, everyone's linens were laundered regularly, and the money and food for the villagers was all divided, bundled, and ready to go when needed. And, although Much complained regularly about being the only member of the gang to bother over meal preparations, he really didn't _like_ anyone messing about in his kitchen or starting supper without his direct supervision—which meant the cooking had to wait until he was present.

So Djaq was left to come up with other ways in which to be helpful _and_ fill her time, and stocking up on meat for the winter seemed to fit the bill quite nicely. Will laughed at her and said that she was _nesting_—making sure everything was well stocked and in order in preparation for their child's arrival—and maybe she _was_. It was all new to her, and she really had no better explanation for her behavior, so perhaps he was right and it was all about the baby.

But whatever the reason for her newly discovered passion for hunting, the fact remained that she now had a large pile of rabbits to prepare and since the boys had yet to return from checking out the alarm call, she figured that this was as good a way as any other to keep her mind off of what might be taking them so long.

* * *

Meanwhile, out in the forest, the outlaws stood with their weapons at the ready and exchanged confused looks once again before returning to staring up at the stranger. They'd expected hostility, righteous indignation or fear. But _this_ man...he was downright..._jolly_.

So they just stared.

Finally, Allan—deciding that it was up to one of them to say something clever and put this confrontation firmly back into the hands of the outlaws—shouted, "Well who wants to know?" Hm. That didn't come out nearly as clever-sounding as he'd expected. Oh well.

"Ah yes. Of course. Forgive me. I am Ysaac de Setmois. And may I presume zat _you_ are Robin `ood?" he called down to Allan.

"Well you can _presume_ anything you like, but—"

"I think you'll find that _we _ask the questions around here," Much interrupted in an authoritative tone. He figured that naturally, in Robin's absence, he was next in line as leader. A theory he'd found it necessary to remind Allan, Djaq, and Will of several times since Robin's departure.

"Fair enough zen," Ysaac—still nonplussed—replied with a nod of concession. "What do you weesh to know in order to return me to zee ground?"

"Who _are_ you?" Much demanded as Allan and Will lifted the covering on the man's cart and began poking through its contents.

There were clay pots and there were kitchen implements, a stack of parchments and a pile of furs, sacks of various grains, and jars filled with numerous oils and strong-smelling spices. There were also jugs full of wine, baskets of dried meats and fruits, a few expensive-looking rugs, several colorful bolts of fabric and any number of other assorted items.

The man seemed to be transporting a little bit of everything.

"I `ave already told you my name," Ysaac replied patiently. "It will not change no matter `ow many times you ask."

"Oh. Right. Well then…what are you doing with all of this…this _stuff_? Hm?" Much gestured wildly in the direction of the cart that Allan and Will were rifling through.

"I am a trader," he answered simply.

Much gasped in horror. "A _traitor_? Well _you_, sir, have made a _grave_ mistake in coming here. We are Robin Hood's men and _we_ fight for King Richard! We will not abide traitors!" Much raised his weapon higher.

"No mate. I think he means he's a tra-**der**," Allan said with a smirk, elbowing Much. "You know, like a merchant."

Much turned very red _very_ quickly. "Oh. A merchant? Well that's...that's not nearly as bad, I suppose," Much reluctantly admitted.

"Yes. Zat is correct. A merchant. I mean you no `arm and I am prepared to pay your toll if you will only release me. I `ave traveled a long way…all zee way from Acre carrying a very important message. I am afraid zat I can say no more until I speak weez Robin `ood."

"Well you're in for a long bout of silence then, friend," Allan commented wryly. "Robin might not be back for days. So it's _us_ or nothing'."

"A message? Is it from the king?" Will asked as he poked his head up from the pile of foreign-looking documents he was trying to make some sense out of. Without Robin, he wasn't exactly sure how to deal with this. What Allan said was true, Robin might _not_ be back for days yet, but a message from the king was a dangerous business and this man had to be kept safe until he returned.

Ysaac laughed. "No no. It eez not so grand as all of zat.

"_You _are…are…why you're _French_!" Much—having just managed to identify the accent—accused in a flustered voice, pointing a finger up towards the net where Ysaac still dangled between the trees.

Will and Allan looked at one another and shrugged, as neither of them had been able to place the man's accent themselves.

"Yes. You are an observant one, you are," Ysaac chuckled.

"This is ridiculous," Will muttered in the hearing of the other two as he slipped his axe back into his belt. "He's clearly alone. I'm gonna release him." Then, to Ysaac, he shouted, "Hold still and I'll let you down. Don't even _think_ about trying anything though." He pointed to the surrounding forest. "There are many more of us scattered throughout the trees and we've got you surrounded."

"I assure you zat I intend you no `arm," he replied as he patiently awaited his release.

"Yes well, that's a good thing because, as Will here says, there's more than just us. Oh yes. We've got you _surrounded_," Much added completely unnecessarily, causing Allan to shoot him a look that clearly said_ shush_.

"Aha! So you are Weel. Weel Scarlett? Zee husband of zee Lady Saffiya? Zen I need not wait for Robin `ood, I may speak weez _you_."

Upon hearing this, Much and Allan exchanged a confused look, as neither of them recalled at that moment that Saffiya was Djaq's real name.

Will, however, was shocked—so much so that he momentarily released the rope too quickly, causing Ysaac to plummet to earth. He caught the rope just in time and—for a brief moment—reconsidered releasing the man until he'd had the chance to find out more.

"What do know of Djaq...er, Saffiya?" he demanded, his throat tightening around the words with the amount of effort it took for him to resist the sudden and surprising impulse to hurt this man on the mere _chance _that he could bring any harm to Djaq or the baby. "Who sent you?"

Much and Allan then shared an even _more _confused look with one another as neither of them could imagine what this Frenchman knew of their Djaq. Then they turned to glare—weapons once again raised—at the man who now hovered a mere foot or two off the ground in front of them.

"I suggest you pick your next words very _carefully_, mate," Allan advised the man in a dangerous voice.

"I am s-sent by her kinsman, Lord Bassam. I `ave a letter for her as well as several gifts." Only now, at the obviously hostile reaction that her name had evoked in the men, did Ysaac's voice betray any sense of apprehension. "I was told to travel along zee Great North Road, in zee Forest of Sherwood, and to expect to be intercepted by Robin `ood `imself. I `ave `eard many tales of `im and `is men—I journey to England once or twice each year, you see—and I am prepared to pay zee toll zat you require for your poor." As if to prove the veracity of his claim, he desperately jangled a purse of coins that hung from his waist beneath his cloak.

Upon hearing Ysaac refer to Bassam— of whom Djaq had spoken to him many times—Will allowed himself to breathe a tentative sigh of relief. He was still unsure as to what sort of message Bassam would be sending to Djaq, or how he even had any idea of where to find her, but Djaq had always spoken of him as a trusted family friend. So he decided to at least give Ysaac the opportunity to convince him that he meant no harm and, seeing as there were three of _them_ and only one of _him_, the odds were definitely in their favor.

So Will slowly lowered the rope the rest of the way and as the net touched the ground, it fell open, allowing Ysaac to simply step off. When he did, Will felt an immediate wave of guilt wash over him, for the man they had 'captured' looked to be well into his sixties at least and Will noticed him wince as he limped away from the net.

"You're hurt!" Will instantly rushed forward and lent the man his arm until he was clear of the tree stump and tangle of roots that covered the ground.

"Nonsense." He waved a hand dismissively once he'd released Will's arm. "It eez an old injury which sometimes causes me aggravation. It eez not your doing, I assure you." And he gave Will an appreciative smile.

"I'm sorry. We didn't mean…We wouldn't have…It's never our intention to hurt anyone." Will bowed his head slightly and spoke in a quiet voice.

"Understood, young man. Understood." Ysaac reached out and gave Will's shoulder a kindly pat.

Allan and Much still had their swords pointed in the stranger's direction, so Will said, "You remember Djaq speaking of _Bassam_? The bird man?"

"Oui, ze _bird _man." Ysaac chuckled, dusting himself off and bringing himself up to his full stature—just shy of Will's height.

"Oh, right. Pigeons, innit?" Allan responded. And he lowered his weapon as Will nodded.

"Will Scarlett," Will offered as he extended his hand in a show of friendship. Ysaac clasped it gratefully.

"Allan. Allan A'Dale," Allan followed suit.

Much glared.

"Ysaac de Setmois. I am pleased to meet you."

"So...you said that you have a message for Djaq? I mean for Saffiya?" Will asked cautiously.

Ysaac then reached into his cloak, prompting Much—who had yet to lower his sword— to step forward menacingly. "Now hold on there. Are you _armed_?" he asked suspiciously, waving his sword in front of the man.

He simply could not _believe_ that Will and Allan were content to just accept this man's claims. Weren't they even going to pat him down for _weapons_? Unbelievable! _Much_, however, would not allow this man to charm _him_ as easily as he had done with the other two. Oh no. People were far too trusting these days as far as _he_ was concerned, and he wasn't accepting old age, some story about birds, _or_ being French as any good reason to take this man at his word.

"Well, yes. I `ave a dagger in my belt, `ere on zee left side." He held up his hands in front of him in an effort to show compliance and used a tilt of his head in order to point. "And a smaller one in my right boot."

"It's alright, Much." Will said, at which point Much stepped back but held his sword in place.

Ysaac reached into his cloak once again and withdrew a roll of parchment sealed with wax. As he handed the letter to Will, he said, "Zere are two large trunks in zee false bottom of my cart. Zay are for zee Lady Saffiya as well."

Much and Allan moved toward the cart and attempted to discover how to access this 'false bottom' while Will turned the sealed document over and over again in his hands. If it was written in Arabic—as Will suspected it would be—he would be unable to read it at all. If it was written in English, he would _probably_ be able to get through it. But it would be a long and slow process—as his literacy skills were rather limited—and he didn't really feel _comfortable_ reading something that was meant specifically for her _anyway_. That just wouldn't be right.

But he couldn't just escort this man into the camp—no matter how much Will was beginning to trust his intentions—without first knowing that it was what Djaq wanted.

Allan ran his hands along the bottom and sides of the cart in an effort to figure out where the chests were hidden. But, frankly, it seemed no different than any ordinary cart to him. Much and Allan looked at one another and then Allan looked at Will and shrugged. Seeing their confusion, Ysaac moved toward the cart, saying, "It eez actually quite simple once you `ave seen it at work."

"Uh, yeah. That makes a lot of sense." Allan rolled his eyes.

"Look `ere." Ysaac walked to the front of the cart, giving his horse a soothing pat as he approached, and placed a hand right behind the driver's seat. Will followed now with rapt attention, eager—almost despite himself—to understand the mechanics involved.

"You see `ere…where ze braking lever is located?" Ysaac pointed and Will nodded. "Look closely. Zere is a second, smaller lever just above zat one."

Will groaned and put a hand to his forehead. How could they have missed seeing that?

"Do not be too `ard on yourself, " Ysaac said. "Most people never notice it. Zat eez why it eez so effective." And he pushed the smaller wooden knob to the right as far as it would go. Then he made his way to the back of the cart, with Will tramping closely behind and the other two watching intently.

When they'd reached the back of the cart, Will noticed two pieces of wood—one jutting out on either sidejust above the rear wheels—that hadn't been there a moment before. As Will's keen mind was working out the intricacies of such a contraption, Ysaac—now obviously enjoying Will's enthusiasm—said to the three of them, "Clear away ze items covering ze backside of ze cart. Zat's good, yes. Just pile zem atop ze rest of ze goods."

And once the back section had been cleared of all merchandise, Ysaac gave a forceful push to both pieces of wood simultaneously, causing the 'floor' of the cart along the back to pop out of place, revealing a hidden compartment below which ran the entire length of the cart.

The outlaws jumped back in surprise and then laughed at the ingenuity of the whole thing. Even Much, who was still mistrustful, had to admit that they would probably never have found the hidden space on their own.

Will, though, was completely absorbed in the design and construction of such a system and he couldn't resist poking his head beneath the cart in order to see how the whole thing worked once they had hauled out the two chests from within.

"You brought this cart with you on the ship from Acre?" Will asked.

"Oh yes. Zis cart goes everywhere with me. I change my horse many times, but my cart eez like my home and I carry it with me always. Most of ze time, I live out of it. Accept on ze rare occasions zat I stay with old friends during my travels."

"So you go back and forth between here and the Holy Land? Don't you have a permanent home?" Much asked—curious despite himself.

"Not for a great many years. But I do not limit my travels to England and ze Holy Land. I also travel all over Europe. I buy, sell and trade and I `ave been doing it for so long zat people come to expect me during certain times of ze year. So I also carry letters and messages back and forth between friends and loved ones `oo are kept apart by war or even just ze wide expanse of ze ocean," Ysaac explained.

"And Djaq's bird-man-friend paid you to bring her a message? Isn't he Saracen? Doesn't that get complicated...with the war and all?" Allan asked.

"Lord Bassam and I are very old friends and I volunteered to come `ere to bring `is letter. `e did not pay me to do so. But I do business with _everyone_. Saracen, Jew, Frenchman, English, Spaniard, Moor. Wealthy , poor, or in between. I am too old to care for such differences among men. And, being a Jew myself, I have little concern for ze outcome of zis so-called '`oly War.' I am friendly and discreet and I trade in all manner of goods. Zat seems to be enough for most people to trust me."

"Makes sense," Allan said, a little charmed by the idea of never settling down, of making a living talking people into parting with their coins in exchange for items they probably didn't need to begin with, of picking up and moving on before anyone had the chance to depend on him being around or to miss him being gone. There was a time that such a life would've held great appeal for a man like Allan A 'Dale…but he realized in that moment that such a time had passed.

"Eez ze Lady nearby? I weesh to see her, if I may, in order to offer her ze greetings of her kinsman."

"Uh, yeah. Just...just let me get this letter to her first, okay? Much, would you run ahead and take this letter to Djaq?" Will requested. "Explain Ysaac's presence to her while Allan and I help him get his cart off the main road." Much took the letter and nodded, narrowing his eyes at Ysaac in what he hoped served as a warning before jogging off into the trees.

* * *

"Djaq! _Djaq_!" Much called frantically as he barreled into the camp, hoarse and winded from the long run.

He stopped short when he nearly collided with her as she was on her feet at once, causing her hunting knife to fall with a clatter and the rabbit she'd been skinning to slump to the floor. "What's happened? Is he hurt? _Please_ tell me that he is not dead!" she begged with wide-eyed panic, clutching at his collar.

"No! Nobody's dead…_or_ hurt. It's alright. I'm sorry I scared you," he said in what he hoped was a soothing tone, reaching out and giving her shoulder a squeeze. He should have known better than to run into camp shouting like that. A woman in Djaq's condition was probably rather easily frightened.

"Why on _earth_ would you run in here yelling my name that way then?" she demanded, releasing him and focusing on smoothing out her clothing in an effort to control her pounding heart and steady her breathing. She had been a fool to react that way. After all, Much was always running in shouting for her. And Will was fine. Of _course_ he was.

"There's a _man_!" he announced.

"Was he _chasing_ you?" she asked angrily—hands on hips—looking him in the eye.

"Uh, _no_."

"Then?"

"S-Sorry, Djaq." He said sheepishly. "Are -Are you okay?"

"Yes, I think so," she huffed irritably. "Now tell me about this man."

"He's _French_! And he's here for _you_…to bring you something. Here." He shoved the parchment at her. "Will said to give you this while he and Allan moved the man's cart off the road."

Recognizing the blazon at once, she unsealed it, letting her eyes quickly run across the page.

"You should _see _his cart, Djaq! It's piled high with all this _stuff_! But that's not the best part. It's got this hidden compartment underneath that we _never_ would have found if he hadn't told us. _Will_ thinks it's wonderful, of course. You know how excited …"

Much's voice trailed off. Djaq would have assumed that he'd simply stopped _talking_ but for the fact that she could just make him out—over the top of the page she held—as he gestured animatedly in his continued explanations of their encounter with the visitor _and_ his cart. He was probably completely oblivious to the fact that she was now no longer listening and was instead thoroughly absorbed in the letter.

_My dearest Saffiya, _

_How I pray that this message reaches your hands. I must admit that I am still afraid to fully believe the story that I have been told. It all seems too fantastic to be true. Too miraculous. When the youngest son of __Basil abd-al-Muhaymin came to me this very morning and told me of encountering you…living as far off as England no less…I was not certain what to believe. I have always tried to maintain the hope that you were alive and had begun anew somewhere, but I confess that there were many days in which keeping such hope alive was indeed a struggle._

_But you __**are**__ alive, are you not, Little Dove? Oh I do not know how I shall ever survive the many long months until I may receive a reply from you. Is what I have been told about your current circumstances true? That you are involved in subversive activities in order to strike against injustice in England? I should not be surprised, I suppose. Your father used to say that you were the greatest problem-solver he had ever known, and I am happy to know that you have found a cause which you deem worthy of your efforts._

_I worry for you, however, as the young Rashid has told me of the danger you face regularly. But I am told that there is one who looks after you now…a husband. I am glad for it. You deserve love and companionship and Rashid assures me that your husband is a very good man. I must say that I was surprised to learn that he is English and a Christian, but you know that I make no judgments on such matters…having lived too long to care about such distinctions. _

_I understand that he is without land or wealth however, and so I will, if you so desire it, look into what claims may be made regarding your inheritance and securing its smooth transfer to your future children at some point in time. Of course, as your husband is not of our faith, he must be excluded from such matters. I hope you will understand that this is not my wish, only the way that things have always been done._

_You will be happy to know that I have managed your estate well in your absence. The property and goods that had been your mother's exclusively were redistributed amongst her living brothers and sisters when you did not return home after many months and rumors of your death began to be discussed. I will research what legal steps may be taken in order to right this matter, however, as soon as I receive your consent to do so. However the bulk of your father's estate remains securely intact. In fact, I am happy to be able to report to you that your wealth has increased by rather a large margin under my careful management._

_As there was never any proof or even any direct statements to substantiate rumors of your death, I was able to keep my position as overseer of the estate, as was your father's wish until such a time as you came of age. But of course, things could be easily settled if you were to make an appearance here and put forth your claims in person, but if that is not possible for you at this time, I will attempt to act on your behalf. Although, I confess, that nothing would brighten my old age more than to see you one last time. Your husband is also most welcome, of course._

_Rashid tells me that you have sent me your apologies. You must believe me when I say that there is no need. I understand why you ran away. I have always understood and I have never held any resentments over it. I only regret that I was unable to be more of a comfort to you in your hour of deepest sorrow. Perhaps had I been more perceptive, I would have understood that your pain went deeper even than I realized and I could have taken steps to help you. So there is no need for your apologies. My only wish is for your safety and happiness, which I have been assured that you have found. Praise be to Allah._

_Ah my little dove, if only I had more time to record my thoughts here. There are so many things that I wish to tell you and so many questions I wish to ask. Rashid has woven a very strange and outrageous tale of his time in your new land. Tales of men scaling the sides of tall buildings like lizards rather than entering through doors, weeks where the rain never once ceases its falling from the sky, money that vanishes without a trace—as if by sorcery—even under the watchful eyes of armed guards. But that boy always did have his head in the clouds. I only pray that his tales of __you__ are __not exaggerated. I pray that you do, indeed, __live__ and that you have found happiness. No one deserves contentment more than you._

_You did right in advising the boy to come to me with word of his father's schemes. I do not dare commit too much to parchment, lest this letter reach other hands than yours, but you will be happy to know that his father's plans have all come to naught and I will send word to the sultan at once in order to alert him to the plots that surround him. Indeed, my child, I may yet see peace in my lifetime. Oh that it would be so._

_I must close this letter now, although I am loathe to do so. But I am off to seek out someone to make the long and dangerous journey to deliver this message into your hands. I think I have someone I mind. Allah's peace be upon you, my child. And upon your husband as well._

_Bassam ibn Khalil __al-Qasim_

There was an addition to the letter that had obviously been hastily scribbled at the last moment.

_I am sending this letter with a very trusted friend. His name is Ysaac and he and I have known one another for years. He knew your father as well. I do not know if you will remember meeting him—although I am certain that you must have done so at some point during your childhood. Or perhaps you recall me speaking of him? He is a traveling merchant who passes through Acre a few times each year, during which he stays in my home. Two old men swapping tales of our younger days. He also travels through Europe and even makes his way as far as England at times. He claims some vague knowledge of this 'Robin Hood' with whom I am told you are associated. Rashid has told us of your approximate location and the steps to be taken in order to find you. I have given Ysaac the name of your husband so that he may inquire after your husband's people if he is unable to discover your whereabouts by other means. _

_I am including with him several items which I think will be of use to you in your new life as well as some items that I believe will have sentimental value to you, although I am certain that I will think of so many things that I should have included once he has gone. I am afraid that my mind is a flurry of thoughts and worries at this moment, but I dare not wait to send this until I am able to think more clearly. Ysaac will wait for a reply from you and I dare not breathe properly until I have something written in your own hand to offer my heart as proof that Allah indeed answers prayers. _

Djaq held the parchment close to her chest as if that could somehow remove the distance between her and the man who had written upon it. She had asked Rashid to tell Bassam that she was alive and well, but this was far more than she had expected in return. She had assumed that he would be relieved to learn that she was alright and that would be as far as it went. After all, it was not as if he did not have children of his own. But he had always cared for her and her family and so she really should not be surprised that he would go far beyond what common courtesy demanded.

"…not a _traitor _like you're probably thinking, but a tra-**der**...a merchant. And he's heard of us…well, of _Robin_. And Will, I guess. But that's only `cause of you. So what do you think?" Much—who was still, apparently, speaking to her—asked when he'd paused for a breath.

"What? Oh, yes yes. A merchant." She hoped that her answer was a satisfactory one and gave no hint to the fact that she'd missed the majority of his speech. "This letter is from a very old friend of my family, Much, and he says that this man can be trusted. I should like to speak with him at once. Will you show me where he is waiting?"

"Well, I-I don't know if I should," Much replied.

"What? Why not?" she asked, confused.

"What if it's not safe for you? What if he's _dangerous_? Maybe you should just stay here," he insisted sensibly. After all, in her condition, she could easily get hurt. No. This man had come to deliver something and so he should just hand it over and go. That was best...safest. Yes.

"What do you mean? I just _told_ you that he is _not_ dangerous." She looked at him for a moment...waiting...and when he failed to offer anything further, she said, "Fine. I will go and find him myself."

"What? No! You're not _supposed_ to leave the camp alone! Just stay here."

"Do not address me in that way! I am not a _child_! I am a grown woman who has experienced far more of the world than you ever will. Besides, I have been hunting every morning for the past week by myself, I still collect plants alone, and I will carry a weapon with me. You are being very _silly_, Much." As she moved toward the door, he stepped in front of her, blocking her path.

"I-I can't let you go," he said nervously. He did not want to make her mad. Goodness knows that she was crankier these days than ever before. But he still couldn't be sure that the man could be trusted and, with Robin gone, _somebody_ had to set the rules. _Somebody_ had to look out for all of them. _Somebody_ had to be sensible.

"Alright," she conceded with a sigh.

"What? Alright?"

"If you feel that it is best for me to remain here, then _alright,_" she repeated.

"Oh...Um...O-okay. Good, then. That's settled," he breathed out in relief. He hadn't really expected it to be that _easy_. She could be quite tricky and stubborn usually. He was relieved that she was being so sensible. He walked over to the kitchen and eyed her pile of rabbits. "Would you like to help me make dinner? We could use one of your rabbits if you like," he offered as if trying to placate a disappointed child.

But as he turned to find out why she hadn't responded, he saw that she'd actually grabbed her sword and slipped out the door while he'd been talking. _He should've known._"Djaq!" He ran ahead to catch up with her, resigned to the fact that she was determined to do this with or without him.

"Ah, so you have decided to join me," she smirked as he caught up to her easily—as she could move no faster than a snail's pace anyway—and began steering her in the proper direction.

"That wasn't very nice, Djaq," he admonished. "I was only looking out for you. You shouldn't have tricked me."

She stifled a laugh. "Yes, I know that and I am sorry. Truly. But this man has traveled a great distance in order to bring me news from my home—" She stopped short and sighed at the piteous look he gave her. "Of course you know that _this_ is my home now, Much. I did not mean to suggest otherwise. But, just imagine for a moment that, during your time in the Holy Land, someone had arrived with a message for _you _from Locksley. Would you not be very anxious to sit down with the man and find out all that you could about those you'd left behind?"

"I _suppose_," he answered reluctantly after considering the question. "But it's different. Locksley was _always_ my home...not...not the Holy Land. I was only waiting for Robin to finish his service to the king and then I would get to go home. But you said that _this_ is your home. So why are so interested in what you're missing over there?"

"Is that what this is about? Are you afraid that I am going to leave? Is _that_ why you do not want me to talk with this man?" she asked in astonishment.

"What? _No_! Of course not! That's...that's just silly." He gave a hollow laugh. "I just...I was...well..._yeah_. I-I guess so," he admitted.

"You're _not_, are you?" he asked suddenly.

"No," she said firmly with a shake of her head. "I told you. _This_ is my home. With Will and all of you. But you must understand that Acre will always be my home as well. I was born there and I _do_ miss it at times. That does not mean that I am not happy here. Because I am. And I may wish to visit there one day when the war is over and people have had a bit of time to begin healing from all of the destruction. But I am not going _anywhere_ for a very long time. And even if I _do_ make a trip there, I will _always_ come back home. You have my word. Alright?"

He nodded.

When they reached the entrance to the cluster of trees where the gang always concealed the carts and horses that they were making use of for whatever scheme they were working on at any given time, she quickened her pace almost unconsciously...anxious to see this man who had been an acquaintance of her father.

She entered the space quietly, hoping to get a good look at him before he saw her. She wondered if his face would be familiar to her, seeing as Bassam had written that she'd met him as a child. She looked around and immediately took in Will crouching under the cart. He was examining something very closely. Allan was standing by, looking rather bored. And there, standing just behind where Will was crouching, stood a tall and slender European man with hair and brows as white as English snow and a serene smile across his wrinkled face.

Djaq watched him carefully for a moment before making her presence known—hoping for some glimmer of recognition—as he explained something to Will. Suddenly he noticed her presence and looked at her curiously for a second before widening his smile.

She was slightly disappointed that there had been no spark of memory when their eyes met. If she had, indeed, known this man at some point in her life, she must have forgotten his face...along with the faces of so many others from her childhood. Sometimes it was simply easier that way.

"My Lady! It eez an `onor and a privilege to see you again." Ysaac greeted her warmly. "Ah, but you probably do not remember me, do you? You were so very young when last we met."

"I am sorry to say that I do not," she returned his smile with a tentative one of her own. "But I am pleased to meet you...or to renew our acquaintance."

Will, who had gotten to his feet upon hearing Ysaac greet Djaq, was at her side in an instant. "I didn't realize you knew each other."

"He was sent by Bassam. I have spoken to you of Bassam, have I not?" Will nodded. "Before our Saracen 'friend' departed for home, I asked him to tell Bassam that I am alive and well and living in England. So Bassam must have questioned him on where I could be found and then sent this man with a letter for me. The letter said that he and I had met during my childhood and I thought that I might remember him once I saw him, but I am afraid that I do not. He also writes that our 'friend' arrived home safely and that everything has gone in accordance with our plans," Djaq explained.

"I'm so glad," Will said, taking her hand and briefly squeezing it. He knew that, although she hadn't said much about it, Djaq had actually been very worried about Rashid's return trip and the reception that might be awaiting him at home. "But you didn't have to come out here, you know. We were gonna come to you just now. Allan and I just finished explaining to Ysaac why we'd have to blindfold him."

"I tried to get her to stay at the camp, but she wanted to talk to _him _in person." Much indicated Ysaac with a derisive nod which Ysaac seemed to politely ignore.

"Now I see why zese men `ave been so protective over you." He gave a swift glance to her belly and his smile widened. "Congratulations, my Lady."

"Thank you. Please, call me Dj...Saffiya. I am uncomfortable with...such..._deference _here," she said stiffly. She had wanted to ask him to call her Djaq, as she was now known, but seeing as he'd known her family, he would surely know of her brother's death and think it very odd that she would use his name.

"I...yes, of course, my La...Saffiya. I `ave brought you many gifts from your `omeland, you will find." He indicated the chests with a sweep of his hand. "And Lord Bassam sends `is warmest affections."

"Thank you. It was very kind of you make such a long journey on my behalf. Bassam has written of you as a most trusted friend." Now that she was face to face with him and engaged in conversation, she couldn't settle her mind enough to be able to ask him any of the questions that had been swirling through her head.

"Yes. `e and I `ave known one another for many long years, but I would `ave `appily undertaken zis journey in any event. I know zat you do not remember zis but your father once saved my life. I would do whatever possible to see zat `is daughter was well cared for." He smiled at the group who surrounded him. "And I see zat she is."

"You must be tired from your trip. Come. Our camp is not far from here." She turned to Will with a smirk and, indicating the cart, said, "That is, if you have finished playing with your new toy."

"I wasn't _playing_," he said defensively. "I was just...I was..."

"Yeah. You shoulda heard your husband. 'The blah blah connects to the blah blah blah making the blah blah move this way and that.' I'm glad you came to find us or he'd a had me here all day." Allan complained, with a laugh.

"Very funny," Will said to Allan with a scowl. Then to Djaq, "Come on. We can head to the camp. It really _is_ fascinating though. You should see how it works. Maybe I can show you later?"

"I would like that," she answered, smiling at how truly adorable her husband was when intrigued by some new idea or invention. She never stopped marveling at his brilliance.

"Much, Allan, and I will take the trunks. Can you lead Ysaac?" Will asked Djaq as he shot Ysaac an apologetic look before tying a scarf across his eyes so the camp's location wouldn't be compromised.

"Perhaps ze rest of your men can be of assistance? Ze ones in ze trees?" Ysaac asked Will.

"Um…actually, we're all there is." Will answered sheepishly. "There are usually two or three others, but they're away. Robin included. We try to make our numbers seem as intimidating as we can, though. Sorry about that."

"Ah, I understand. Zat is probably wise."

"Of course I will lead him, but can the three of you carry both trunks at a time? They are rather large. Should you not make two trips?" Djaq asked.

"Uh, we're _men_, aren't we? _We_ _know_ what we're doing." Allan announced, swaggering over to the trunks.

"Um…uh maybe Djaq's right," Much managed to choke out as he and the others struggled to heave the trunks up. "Maybe we should just make two trips."

"What? Don't be daft. We're men, I say. We can _mmmmake_ it," Allan grunted with the effort it took to keep the chests stacked and balanced while they walked.

"Yeah, Al...Allan's right," Will could barely get the words out for all of the huffing and puffing and straining required to keep from dropping everything—a task that was clearly just a bit beyond them. But they would never admit to such a thing...after all, they were _men_.

At the camp, Djaq removed the blindfold from Ysaac's eyes as the others dropped the trunks with an unceremonious _plunk—_each of them lacking the remaining strength to lower them carefully to the ground.

"Be _careful_!" Djaq commanded. These were gifts to her from her homeland and great care had been taken in order to ensure that they reached her safely. She would not allow the men's stubbornness—in refusing to admit that they should have simply made two trips—to cause any damage to them now.

"Please, sit. You must be exhausted," she addressed her guest as she sat down as well—Will and Allan taking seats on either side of her. "Can I get you some water?"

"I'll get it," Much offered. He didn't really know why the stranger was still with them, considering that he'd already done what he'd been sent to do. He'd delivered Djaq's message and her gifts. So it was time to move on, wasn't it? Why were they encouraging him to get cozy, anyway? But Much didn't want Djaq to have to run around fetching things for him.

"Thank you, Much," she said as he dipped a tankard into the large water butt they kept in the kitchen and brought it over to Ysaac.

"_Merci_," Ysaac said, taking the proffered cup and gulping it down in a rather hasty and undignified manner.

"_De rien_, " Much replied absently. Only when he'd looked up to see the others staring at him—eyes wide and mouths agape—did he realize what he'd done. It was too late though. He knew they'd make fun of him for sure now. In fact, they'd find hundreds of occasions to tease him for his slip. They never let _anything_ go.

"Since when do you speak _French_?" Allan demanded.

"I-I don't, really," Much answered.

"You just did, we heard you." Djaq argued. "He said _'merci'_ and you very clearly answered with _'de rien'_. Is that not so?"

"Well, yes. But...but I didn't _mean_ to. It's just...it's a habit."

"A _habit_?" Will asked as if this were the most absurd thing he'd ever heard.

Much nodded, wishing they would just leave him alone and drop it.

"Not bein' funny, but I think we'd `a noticed you speaking French before," Allan said.

Much sighed and shrugged. "Most of the Crusaders in the Holy Land were Frankish and so I ended up picking up a bit of the language over there. And when he said _merci_, I accidently said _de rien _without realizing it. It just…it just came back to me, I guess. I only know how to say a couple of things."

"Like what?" Will asked.

Much shrugged.

"You should not be modest, friend." Ysaac said encouragingly. "To possess ze ability to converse in different tongues can be quite valuable. I myself `ave `ad to learn several languages in order to communicate with zose I meet and do business with. It eez not an easy task. You should be proud of your knowledge...even if it eez, as you say, only a few words."

"What other words do you know how to say, Much?" Will asked.

"W-well, I can say 'yes' and 'no'...um...'please', 'thank you' and 'you're welcome'...'good day'...hm...'king,' 'God,' 'sword and shield'…oh, and 'give me back my hat.' That's all."

The rest of the gang looked at Much, then at each other, then back at Much. They were _very_ impressed. They were also trying _very_ _hard_ to suppress the giggles that had threatened to erupt upon hearing Much declare that he'd had to learn how to say 'give me back my hat' in French. Poor Much.

"Most impressive," Ysaac commended.

Much smiled—despite himself—as he moved to start supper.

"Zat reminds me of ze first time zat I met you, my Lady...forgive me...Saffiya....you could not `ave been more zan seven years old. I was very proud of my grasp of your native tongue, and so, when your father introduced me to you and your brother, I spoke to you in my _very _best Arabic, certain zat it was a chance to show off my mastery of ze language. You and your brother shared a look with one another and I could tell zat you found my pronunciation quite atrocious." He chuckled. "And zen you stepped forward with your `ead raised in an almost regal manner—never releasing your brother's arm—and you answered me in nearly _impeccable_ French. Zen you stepped back with an unmistakable...`ow do you say _sourire satisfait_?" he turned to Much.

"Uh, that's not one of the words I know," Much replied with a shrug.

"A satisfied smile? Like…like a _smirk_?" Djaq offered.

"Yes. Yes. A smirk. Zat eez it."

"So you were snobby even way back then, huh? Some things never change," Allan teased, tugging her pigtail and earning himself a swat on the arm.

Djaq blushed. She really _had_ been an arrogant child. She _knew_ that and she wondered why no one had ever thought to put her in her place back then. Like the gang did now. They always let her know when she was being too bossy or condescending. It _infuriated_ her at times—especially when she was convinced that _she_ was right and _they_ were wrong—but she knew that she needed it from time to time. "I am sorry for my rudeness back then. You must have found me horrible," she said.

"No no. I was quite impressed with you, if you must know. You were quite ze _petite adulte_. A little grown up," he said for the benefit of the others. "`elping your father and speaking so confidently to everyone around, despite all of the chaos that surrounded you. And you never once let go of your brother's `and. Or perhaps it was your brother `oo `eld onto _you_. I never could tell. I even asked your father about it once."

"Oh?" she asked.

"Ze two of zem were inseparable, you see," he explained to the others. "Always whispering between zem, finishing one another's stories and ideas, sharing jokes zat no one else understood. And one of zem was always `olding onto or following ze other. So one day I asked Sayed which of zem was ze leader."

He paused when he received a cautionary look from Will, who reached out and placed a protective arm around Djaq's shoulders and asked, "Are you alright?"

"Forgive me, Saffiya! But of course I am a fool. I forget zat most people are not as comfortable in ze past as an old man eez. It was not my weesh to upset you. I am sorry. Let us speak of more pleasant times."

"No. I am fine," she said, leaning her head against Will.

"Are you sure?" Will asked as he planted a light kiss to her temple.

"Yes, I am sure." And she meant it. For while Ysaac had been talking, she had been doing something that she so rarely allowed herself to do. _Never_ if she could help it. She'd been _remembering_. She'd closed her eyes and allowed the happy memories to sweep over her mind and body. And she'd braced herself for the pain that she was certain would inevitably follow.

But it had never come.

Oh there was a slight twinge at first. But that was to be expected, surely. The deep rooted agony, however, had simply never taken hold. And she found that it felt _good _to think of Djaq. Of her times with him. She realized that, ever since the day she'd found out that he was gone, she'd been trying to live both of their lives for them.

And even though she now carried Djaq's name and was—in some ways—even more _him_ than she was _herself_, she realized that she hadn't been honoring his memory at all. Not really. Honoring his memory would entail thinking about him. Remembering him fondly. Cherishing the good times they'd once shared. But she'd spent years trying every way she could think of to _avoid _thinking about him. She just hadn't been willing to face what she'd lost. So she'd buried it all inside.

Only more recently, when she was alone with Will, did some of those memories threaten to surface from time to time. And _that _was only because she sometimes became so content and comfortable with Will that she began to reminisce before she'd had time to stop herself. But this was different. Listening to Ysaac recount his memories and impressions of them...of their very special relationship...had actually made her _want_ to remember.

"I am sure," she repeated, as much for herself as for the others. "Sometimes...sometimes it can be good to remember. So what did my father say when you asked him which of us was the leader?"

"`e replied zat `e did not know. Zat many `ad asked `im but zat `e `ad never been able to tell for certain. No one `ad. One of you was always pulling ze other zis way or zat, but `e never knew which of you it was. But `e told me with a laugh zat if `e `ad to _guess_, `e would say zat it was _you_...for _you_`ad been ze first one born. And `e said zat after so many months of playing together in your mother's womb, you must `ave decided zat it was time to take on ze world and you `ad dragged your brother out with you. `e said zat `e suspected zat you were still doing ze same."

He chuckled and the others, including Djaq, laughed along. It felt good to laugh over the past. Strange...but good. She had often envied the way that some people—Will included—could relive happy childhood memories without the guilt and the sadness of later times rushing in and enveloping them.

"Are you able to stay with us for a day or so? Or must you leave right away?" she asked.

"I will wait while you compose a reply to Lord Bassam," he said. "And, if it eez your wish, I can stay for a few days before I must continue on my way. But I `ave no weesh to impose," he answered.

"Nonsense. It is no imposition. You are our _guest_. I appreciate the trouble that you have gone to on my behalf and I want you to be comfortable here. Perhaps after you have rested a bit I may ask you some questions?" Although, frankly, she still wasn't exactly certain what she wanted to ask him.

"But of course. Anything you weesh to ask. But do you not weesh to open ze chests zat Lord Bassam has sent to you?"

The others had simply placed the chests on the ground and hadn't mentioned them to her at all—although she was certain that they must be very curious. But they would surely know what a big deal this was for her and how potentially difficult it would be. So they were waiting until she was ready.

And now she thought that she might be.

"Yes, I think that I will open them now. But may I ask a favor? Something that you may find a bit odd?" she asked carefully as Will went over to arrange the trunks in front of their new bed and Allan helped her to her feet.

"Whatever eez in my power to grant you," he replied.

"Would you call me Djaq? It...it is how I am known here. It was..._easier_ that way...at first."

Everyone stopped what they were doing and waited to see how he would respond.

He knitted his bushy white brows for but a fleeting instant before replying, "Djaq it eez, zen."

"Thank you." She smiled.

"Ze larger of ze two chests contains items zat Lord Bassam felt you may need. Ze smaller one contains...well, zere are items in zere which belonged to your family," he said carefully.

"To my family?" she blinked.

"Some items of your father and one or two of your mother's that Lord Bassam `eld onto in case you should ever return. Also..." he paused.

"What? You may speak freely. I understand that this may be difficult for me. I am prepared. What is it you wish me to know?" Djaq asked him.

"Your brother's...personal effects...were delivered but a few weeks after you..._departed_. Zay are in zere as well," he explained.

"I...I see." Her hand flew unconsciously to her belly in an effort to calm the nervousness that suddenly plagued her. "I think that I will wait to open the smaller one until I have had a chance to go through the other. Thank you…for the warning."

As Will made space for them over by the chests, he picked up the cradle in order to get it out of the way. It had still been lying in front of the bed from when Will and Djaq were deciding where to put it earlier. "I'll just put this up then so it's not in your way. I'll get it back down whenever you want," he told her.

"Thank you," she said.

"May I see zat? If you do not mind?" Ysaac asked.

"Sure." Will shrugged and handed it over.

"_My_! Zis is exquisite! A true work of art! Such fine craftsmanship. Such detailing. Ze carvings are remarkable. Zay are eastern, no? I am always looking out for special items such as zis. You see, I have many customers `oo would pay a great deal of money for such a piece. Forgive my crudeness, but I must ask. Would you consider selling it to me? I would pay you `andsomely, of course."

"It belongs to Djaq. She's free to do what she wants with it," Will answered with a nod at his wife.

"I am sorry, but I could never part with it." She shook her head. "Not for any price. It is far too precious to me. It was a gift from my husband for our child, you see. The fine craftsmanship that you have been admiring is my _husband's _work. He is brilliant, is he not?" Djaq beamed up at Will who ducked his head, unsure what to say.

"You are an artisan? A craftsman?" Ysaac asked him, handing back the cradle with a slightly disappointed yet very impressed look.

"I-I _was_. Or I was _meant _to be, that is." Will answered simply as he placed the cradle in the loft where it was ordinarily kept. Everyone gathered around Djaq as she plopped down in front of the chests. "My father was a carpenter and I was to follow in his trade. But...circumstances prevented me."

Ysaac nodded thoughtfully. "Mm. Yes. Zat is often ze way of life, eez it not? I was meant to inherit land and title from _my _father. But when I was around twelve years of age, my father was forced to choose sides when a minor land dispute broke out between two of ze king's favorites. Unfortunately, `e chose ze wrong side and `e ended up being `anged for it."

"Oh I'm sorry," Will said sincerely, taking a seat next to Djaq on the bed.

"That's horrible!" Much exclaimed, leaving supper to simmer and coming to join the others.

"Yes," Ysaac replied. "And all of his property was forfeit, leaving my mother and me destitute and living in ze street."

"So, what'd you do?" Allan asked.

"I `ad been groomed only for taking over our estate one day...so I `ad no real skills to speak of. But I was fortunate enough to be offered ze job of cleaning out ze stables on ze estate of a friend of my father. It paid enough to buy bread for my mother and we were permitted to sleep in ze stables on rainy nights. I worked zere until she died—of a broken heart and spirit—one year later. Zen, I decided to make my own way. I became ze servant to a band of traveling merchants in order to `ave food, shelter, and ze company of others…and from zem I learned my current occupation. I will never be a _wealthy _man, but I `ave done well for myself and I `ave met many interesting people along ze way."

As Djaq sifted through the contents of the larger of the trunks before her, Ysaac continued to answer questions about his travels and recount tales of his life. Of how he'd come to know Djaq's father and Bassam and his memories of more peaceful times in the Holy Land.

He spoke of the beautiful Moorish woman he'd met and fallen in love with in Spain many years ago and how she'd agreed to become his wife even over the protests of those around them. And he told of how he'd lost her—to illness—only a few short years later and that not a day had gone by that he hadn't counted himself well-blessed for having known and loved her at all—even for such a short time.

Djaq listened intently as Ysaac spoke—being particularly interested, naturally, in the stories that involved her or her family—while she showed her fellow outlaws the items he'd brought. There were several medicines and spices. Many of which were very difficult to come by in England and all of which were also—she was certain—quite expensive. There were also several bolts of what Djaq recognized to be the finest quality silk. She selected one—of a light blue shade—and held it up to the light to show the others—who seemed even more excited than _she_ was at discovering the wonders contained in the trunks.

"Wow. I've never seen cloth that _thin_ before," Will said.

"And just look at how it _shimmers_," Much marveled, reaching out and running a hand over it. "Almost like water. It's even prettier than what _Marian's_ clothes are made of."

"I tried to tell Lord Bassam zat clothing made from such material may not be best suited to ze weather in England, but `e insisted zat you needed it. I do not believe zat `e understands your life `ere." Ysaac shrugged apologetically.

"Hm. It _is_ lovely, and the quality is obviously very fine. But you are right about its suitability…and not only due to the weather here. There are many in the nobility who would do quick work of discrediting us and the work that we do if given the chance. And I am afraid that if we were seen to be dressed in such obviously expensive materials, it would only raise questions about how much of what we seize from the rich is actually _distributed_ and how much of it we keep for ourselves."

"Nah. We'll just tell people where it came from," Allan said. "They'll understand. We're always doing things for everybody _else_. They won't begrudge us having something nice for a change."

"Words would not be nearly enough. As Robin Hood's men, we must always remain above reproach in the eyes of the people we help. You know that," she said.

"So what are you thinking of doing?" Will asked.

"You could take it back," she said to Ysaac. "I do not wish to offend you…or Bassam, but I cannot see how it could be put to good use here and I would hate for something so expensive to go to waste," she explained apologetically.

"Yes, I see zat what you say is true. But could you not simply trade it for something of more practical use to you? Something zat will not raise questions or zat can even be used to aid in your cause?" Ysaac responded.

"That is an idea," Djaq said thoughtfully.

"We _could _do that," Will said to Djaq. "Robin could take it with him the next time he trades the jewelry and other stuff we take off the nobles. He could probably get a really good price. Or even just trade it for our winter supplies."

"_Or_ that green one there would make an awfully pretty dress for a certain very pretty redhead I know," Allan hinted.

"Allan, what's Rebecca gonna do with a dress made out of silk? Wear it to work in the kitchens?" Will laughed.

"Why not give her something more practical, Allan? Something she can use often and think of you whenever she does." Djaq added.

"Girls don't care about what's practical. They like _pretty _things," he replied. Then, at the skeptical look Djaq gave him, he added, "`cept for you, of course. _You'd_ probably get all sappy if a man handed you a bunch of stinky _herbs_."

"I do _not_ get sappy!" she bristled. "Besides, herbs are very _useful_."

Seeing her pout, Will whispered against her ear, "I promise to bring you stinky herbs whenever you like, my love." Which made her squirm and giggle in a rather un-Djaq-like way.

"It's _awfully_ nice fabric, though. And it _would_ make for soft bed coverings," Much added hopefully.

"It's up to you, Djaq. This stuff is all yours and we'll do whatever you want," Will told her.

"We will consider it later. Once Robin returns," she replied, returning her attention to the trunk and its contents.

After pulling out and passing around an assortment of bath oils, dried fruits, several jars of fine olive oil, and numerous other items—some useful, some luxurious—Djaq reached in and discovered a rather good-sized box nestled in the bottom. When she opened it, everyone fell silent.

Finally, Ysaac—obviously confused by the silence—said, "Zat silver is _yours_, my La—Djaq. From your estate. Zere is plenty more, of course. But Lord Bassam was not certain if I would be able to locate you, and so `e only sent a small amount zis time."

"A _small_ amount?" Will asked, astonished. He _had_ seen more silver coins all in one place before in his life, but only a few times. And it had always belonged to the Sheriff. Even the nobles who traveled through the forest never had _that _much money. Did it really belong to Djaq? And was it possible that this really was just a small _portion_ of what she owned?

Djaq didn't say anything. At all. She still hadn't quite worked out how to explain her inheritance to Will. She had always assumed that she'd given up any rights to her family's money when she'd left home and not returned. So finding out that she was a rather wealthy woman was a shock and left her wondering what to do. Especially since she knew how Will regarded wealth and nobility—with contempt.

He had fallen in love with a fellow soldier…an outlaw like himself. Not an heiress. She wasn't worried that he'd love her less because of it—he was a better man than that. But she _was_ concerned about his reaction. In particular, she wondered how to make him understand that—because of his faith—he was excluded from any claim to her fortune. A fact that actually made her question whether she wanted any of it at all.

"Not being funny, but if _that's_ a small amount then _I'm_ the Sheriff of Nottingham." Allan said.

Djaq closed the box of silver coins and set it aside without a word—garnering some curious glances from the men present. She then reached in and found what appeared to be a rolled up mat made of straw or some similar material. Will helped her lift it out and unroll it. Inside were numerous daggers and swords of assorted sizes and shapes—long, short, curved, straight—all bundled together and wrapped in cloth, as well as several quivers of expertly-made arrows.

"Now _these_ will most _certainly _come in handy for us," Djaq declared as the others moved in for closer inspection—picking up and examining the different blades, testing out the weight and balance of the swords, taking practice swings through the air .

"Ah yes. I usually do not transport or trade in weapons. Zat can be a rather dangerous business zese days. But Lord Bassam was informed zat your cause was such zat zese might be of some use to you," he explained. "`e worries for your safety, you see."

"Please, tell him that I am fine. That I am always very careful," she said. "But _do_ thank him. I will do so as well when I write to him. We do not often get weapons of this type. Although, I must say that the English swords and bows we use are of an excellent quality. I was surprised to discover their usefulness when I first arrived here and began fighting with these men. I had always assumed that European weaponry was somewhat crude and useless. I have learned to appreciate a great many things about this land and its people."

"Yes, I too `ave learned to set aside some of ze prejudices of my youth during my dealings with people. It can be an `umbling experience, can it not?"

"You are right," she agreed.

"Supper's ready," Much called out. "Should I serve it now, or after you open the second trunk?" he asked Djaq.

"Actually, I was thinking that I would not open that one just yet. That I would save it for another time," she said.

"Whatever you want," Will told her.

"If…if that is alright with you," she said to Ysaac.

"Yes, of course. Whatever eez easiest for you, my dear," he replied.

"Aww. But we want to see what's in it," Much complained.

"She'll show us later, Much. When she's ready," Allan scolded.

"I guess," Much grumbled as he plated up the stew while Will and Djaq replaced the items in the trunk and closed the lid.

During the meal—which Ysaac complimented several times…finally earning him Much's trust and approval—Djaq asked Ysaac to share anymore stories he may have about her father or any he may remember from her childhood. He graciously obliged and the meal passed in an enjoyable and relaxed manner.

* * *

A little while later, Will and Djaq were at the stream together. As they were well into autumn now, they always took their bath long before sunset—when the water began to cool. Will was touting the virtues of the device that was used to operate the release on the hidden section of Ysaac's cart, and Djaq was happily listening—enjoying his excitement and interjecting a question here or a comment there—while she rubbed his tired shoulders and washed his hair.

"So the amount of force can be _controlled_ by how much tension is built up in the rope," he explained, using his hands to demonstrate while he spoke. "It depends on the length and width of the rope and on how much you twist it. If you bind it tightly enough, when it's released, it'll propel whatever's in front of it forward. Just like the false floor of his cart. You see?"

"Yes. Very exciting. Now tip your head back," Djaq ordered from behind him.

Will complied and shivered slightly as she cupped her hands and trickled water over his head in order to rinse out the lather she'd been working into his hair. The scent of lavender wafted about his nose and he sighed contentedly as she repeated the process and then went about scrubbing his ears and the back of his neck. He loved her ministrations. She always took such good care of him.

"You know, this new way is going to allow for much greater control than the bow method I've _been_ using. Like night and day really. And if the rope is made strong enough, a device should last much longer because I won't have to worry about twigs snapping all the time the way I do now," he said as she gave his head and neck one final rinse before kissing his shoulder lightly.

"There," she said "All clean. And I am glad that this new method will work better for you, but I did not see any problem with the _old_ way. Everything you have designed using that method is brilliant."

"You _always_ say that," he dismissed her praise with a characteristic blush. He sometimes laughed at himself over the way that her pride in him still had such an effect. He certainly didn't do things in an attempt to garner such admiration from her, but the fact was that _everything_ he did _was _for her in one way or another. So the fact that she valued and appreciated his efforts pleased him immensely despite himself.

"Because it is always _true_," she said, kissing his other shoulder. "But I am glad that this has given you some good ideas. I know how much you enjoy new projects, and with winter coming, it will give you something to occupy yourself so you do not become bored when there is less to do."

"I'm sorry for rattling on and on about this though."

"Nonsense. I never grow tired of listening to you. You know that," she told him as she came around to lean her back against his chest, letting her head fall comfortably back onto his shoulder. "It makes me happy when you find things that challenge you this way."

He smiled and kissed the top of her head, wrapping his arms around her shoulders. "But what about you?"

"Me?" she asked.

"Yeah. There's obviously something you want to say. You've been avoiding it so far, and that's okay I guess. You know that I would never demand anything more than you're willing to give, Djaq. So if you don't want to talk, that's fine. But…"

"But?"

"Well, it's just that I get the feeling that you _do_ want to talk. But you're just…_nervous_ for some reason," he loosened his grip on her and turned her around to face him, looking her in the eyes. "You can tell me anything. If you want to, that is."

She sighed. "How is it that you know me so well?" she asked.

"Lots of careful study," he answered with a chuckle, planting three quick kisses to the tip of her nose. "Is this about the silver?"

He'd wondered about her reaction to the box of silver…or rather, her _lack_ of a reaction. She'd seemed very uncomfortable about the whole thing but he hadn't wanted to press her. Especially since he knew that there must be so many different emotions swirling around inside of her right now.

Ysaac's arrival, his stories about her loved ones and her childhood, the gifts that he'd brought her, the letter. It must all seem so overwhelming. Not that Djaq would ever show it, of course. Even to Will. But still, he'd had the distinct impression that she was trying to work up the nerve or to find the best way to tell him something important.

"Yes. In a way it is about the silver," she did not elaborate immediately, instead turning and snuggling back against him. Finally, she began. "As Ysaac said, that money is mine."

He waited. Surely that wasn't all there was to it. He worried over what could be so difficult for her to say to him.

"There…there is much more of it, you see. Land _and_ money. Perhaps a few other things…art or items of value such as that. I do not really know for certain what is left," she said carefully, pausing for his reaction.

"Okay," he said slowly, unsure what she expected him to say.

It wasn't as if he didn't know that she came from wealth. Her friend Bassam was obviously a man of affluence. This didn't surprise him, really. He'd always known—long before Rashid had come to Nottingham and Will had seen firsthand how comfortable Djaq was in that world—that she'd been noble-born. They all knew. How could they not? She was educated, well-mannered and more than a little bossy.

They'd just never brought it up unless she had. She'd always seemed content to live as they did and that had been good enough for them. Her past really wasn't any of their business. Although, Will had always assumed that she'd _lost_ everything at some point. She'd often implied as much—without going into any great detail. But now he knew differently.

She was a woman of means. She probably had enough to keep her comfortable for the rest of her life. He was glad of it. He'd always worried that he wouldn't be able to give her and the baby what they needed…even once the king _did_ return. But now he knew that she'd always have enough.

Wait. Was _that_ what this was about?

"Djaq, you don't…you're not worried that I would resent your wealth, are you? That I would _begrudge_ you for it?" he asked incredulously.

"I know how you feel about that," she answered, her voice filled with what sounded very much like regret.

"About _what_?"

"Wealth. Nobility. You have never made a secret of the fact that you despise such things," she answered. "But you must believe me when I tell you that I had no idea that I still had any claim to my father's estate. I assumed that I had forfeited all rights when I left home and let people think that I was dead. I would never have lied to you about that," she said desperately, turning again to face him.

"Of course I believe you, Djaq. Why would I doubt you? And I don't _despise_ _wealth_. Why would you say that?"

"Oh come on, Will. Of course you do. You hate the nobles. You say it all the time." She held his gaze steadily.

"Oh," was all he could manage at first, looking away from her. He _did _say it all the time. And he supposed that a part of him _did_ hate them. Or rather, he hated what they stood for. They flaunted and horded their riches, while good men and women worked themselves into an early grave just to afford bread to fill their bellies.

He hated the fact that, while mothers starved and parents had to find new ways to explain to hungry children why there would be no broth again tonight, these people tossed the 'scraps' from their table to their dogs rather than giving to those in need—scraps that could have fed four families at least.

But he could never feel that way about _her_. And it cut him deeply that she thought he could. He met her gaze again.

"The nobles that I learned to hate growing up were the kind of people who thought they deserved more than us simply by virtue of their birth. The kind of men who would easily step over a starving stranger in the street—someone who'd probably lost everything due to an inability to meet his taxes…no matter how hard or how long he worked. And these men would step over someone like that with no thought other than what an _inconvenience_ it was, rather than taking a second out of the day to offer a pence. A _pence_! Something that meant so little to them. But a pence would have bought that man's family two chickens or two dozen eggs. But no. We were nothing. Nobody. To them, at least." He sighed, trying to reel in his temper and gather his thoughts back to where he wanted them to be.

"But I could _never _feel that way about you. In God's name, Djaq, how could you even _think_ that? I love you and I'm sorry for whatever I've said or done that would make you believe that I would rather see you poor and hungry than have what is rightfully yours. I know that you're nothing like the rest of them. You care about people. You give everything you have to people who, by all rights, you should think of as enemies. You deserve that money. It's yours. It belonged to your family and you have every right to it. I could never begrudge you that."

"Oh I am sorry, Will. Forgive me. I did not mean…it did not come out the way that I intended. I did not mean to hurt you or make you angry."

"I'm not angry," he snapped, to which she gave him one of her raised-eyebrow looks. "Well, maybe a little. But only because you should know me better than that. I'm glad to know you'll always have what you need. I've always felt bad that I can't…provide you with…more security," he explained, leaning in to kiss her lips.

She pulled back. "That is not all."

"There's more?"

Nod.

"Okay," he said carefully, now fully dreading whatever she was struggling to say.

"You must understand that Islamic inheritance laws are extremely strict and complicated. One cannot simply bequeath property according to preference. There are laws governing such things. It is all very complex, and most of it is not necessary for you to understand anyway, except as it applies to you."

"To me? Why would it apply to me at all? It's your money, Djaq. What does it have to do with me?"

"Well, that's just it. It _is_ mine. Only mine. I am sorry, but I…I cannot give it to you legally because you are not of my faith. Not the land deeds, anyway. I can give you the money, of course. But, if anything happened to me, you…you would have no claim to anything. Do you understand?" she asked.

"I think so. But what does that matter? I don't want your money or your lands. I only want _you_. Keep what is yours. And if anything ever happened to take you away from me, then no amount of wealth could ever compensate me for such a loss anyway. I don't understand why you're troubling yourself over this."

"But I do not _want_ anything that I cannot share with you. You have shared everything you _have_ with me. And it hardly seems fair anyway. As I said to the others earlier, it would not be _right_ for us to live in comfort while the people we fight for struggle and starve," she said.

"So what are you saying?" he asked.

"In Bassam's letter, he asked me to reply to him and tell him how I wanted him to handle this for me. Apparently, he has been overseeing my father's estate and he said that it has grown quite a bit under his management. He offered to see to the paperwork involved in arranging to set it up so that our children can inherit—"

"Does he know that you're—"

"No. No not yet," she said. "He only mentioned _future_ children. But I will include the news of the baby in my letter to him. I am planning, though, on telling him that all of my needs are met here and that I want to relinquish any claim to my family's estate. My only worry is offending him or hurting his feelings. He has cared for all of this in my absence, all in the hope that I was still alive and would one day return. I hope that he will not take this news too hard. And as for the silver that he has already sent, I thought that we could use it to aid the villagers this winter. What do you think?"

"No. No, Djaq. That money is _yours_! All of it. The money that we give to the villagers comes from the Sheriff or the nobles...and that's as it _should_ be. _They_ are the ones who take that money from hard-working people in the _first_ place. So what we're doing is giving it _back_ to the people who've already earned it. But your money is _yours_. No one else's. If…if it's bothering you, then give ten percent of it just like we ask of everyone else. But don't give it all," he pleaded.

"Why not? You have said yourself, many times in fact, that winters are very hard on the peasantry. Nothing grows, it is too difficult to keep livestock, there is little hunting to be done. Besides, the cold keeps the nobles inside and off the roads. So there are fewer chances for us to rob them to meet the needs in the villages. We now have the ability to make sure that _this_ winter, at least, is not nearly as bleak."

He took her in his arms, then, and kissed her soundly. "You are the most wonderful woman in the world. Sometimes I can't believe that you're real. But I want you to reconsider this. All of it. You say that our child can inherit your estate?" he asked.

"Yes. Of course. If I so arrange it. But I—"

"And what if he or she wants to travel to your homeland sometime in the future? Shouldn't he or she be able to hold onto something from your family? I don't care about the money and I don't care about not being included. I will be happy with you rich or poor. But I _do_ care about you and the baby giving all of that up out of some sense of loyalty to me or to the villagers. Why don't you write to him and ask him to arrange it as he's suggested. Please? Will you at least think about it?"

"It will not bother you? You would not feel—"

"It will _bother _me if you give up what is yours out of some misplaced belief that I expect it. I couldn't live with that, Djaq. I can't tell you what to do and I'd be a fool to try anyway," he smiled and stroked one of her pigtails. "But I'm asking you to reconsider."

She nodded solemnly.

"Good."

"Thank you," she said, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him close as best she could given the cumbersome size of her belly. "I love you."

"I love you too. More than anything," he answered as he held her, knowing that he was the luckiest man in the world. "Now come on. We'd better get out of this water before we get all wrinkly," he laughed as he guided her towards the embankment.

"But I _like_ you all wrinkly," she said suggestively.

"Is that right?" he asked, pulling her back into the deeper water.

"Mm-hm."

"Well then maybe we can stay just a bit longer," he said in a husky voice as she began to trail warm kisses all the way up his arms to his shoulders.

"How much longer?" she asked, looking up at him hungrily.

"As long as it takes," he whispered, leaning down and claiming her lips.

* * *

**A/N:**Next Chapter, Djaq gives birth. Yippie! Finally, right? I'm very unhappy with _this_ chapter. That's why it was so late being posted. I kept thinking I could somehow make it better. But, sadly, no. I can't say exactly what I hate about it. Just that it really doesn't feel right to me at all. Maybe I'm just feeling really melancholy because the story is winding down. Maybe the closer we get to the end, the more I'm unconsciously dragging my feet. I don't know. Whatever the reason, I'm not satisfied with this chapter. But I don't think that would have changed no matter how long I worked on it. Please, though, let me know what you think and how you think it might have worked better. Thanks so much!


	30. Daniel Scarlett

A/N: Hello? Is anyone still out there? I know that this chapter is long overdue and for that I apologize. Once you read it, however, I think you'll understand why it took me so long.

If you're freaked out by the insane length of this particular chapter, let me explain. There were originally supposed to be two final chapters. Chapter 30—in which Djaq gives birth, and an epilogue—detailing the outlaws' lives at some future point in time. But it just didn't work. So I've woven the "future events" throughout _this_ chapter. Which means, of course, that this chapter is more than twice the length of my previously longest chapter.

It also means that this is the end. Oddly enough, today makes a year since I first started posting this story. I hope that you won't allow the length to scare you away. I hope you'll stick around and find out how it all ends. I have really loved writing this story, and this chapter in particular. Thank you to everyone who has commented so far.

And thanks to Wenrom31 for the beta on this chapter! Any mistakes you see are mine and are a result of my final revision after her beta. Below you'll find a few Arabic translations that you may find helpful while reading.

**Umm**=mother; _**laa**_=no; _**akh**_=brother; _**Salma**_=an Arabic name meaning peace; _**shukran**_=thank you; _**al-kamuwn**_=cumin, a spice used in a great number of middle eastern dishes; _**bimaristan**_=a sort of medieval hospital of the Arab world

* * *

_**Locksley Village, Daniel's Birthday, Late Autumn, 1208**_

Contrary to his usual habit during this time of year, Daniel awoke before the first sound of the cock's crow, hurriedly yanked back his bedsheets and leapt from the bed...only to regret it a second later when he found himself shivering in the cold air. Of course, it wasn't _really_ cold—seeing as winter was not yet upon them. It was more what his father would describe as 'nippy'. But Daniel couldn't have cared less _what_ you called it...he hated even the _hint_ of cold weather—something that made his father chuckle each and every time Daniel brought it up. Dad said that it proved he was undeniably his mother's son.

Daniel shivered and flexed his fingers and toes in an effort to get his blood flowing. He had half a mind to crawl back into bed and let the day start without him. That's what he usually did on chilly days like this. In fact, on most cool mornings, he ordinarily stayed in bed until long after the sun had pierced the sky and good and decent people were up and going about the their day—at least that's what his mother always said. Many a cold morning, she'd had to practically pry him out from under the blissful warmth of the covers and give him one of her _looks_ which made perfectly clear the fact that she would brook no discussion on the matter and that he had but five minutes to wash, dress, and join the rest of the world at going about their daily activities. _Or else_. Oh yes...his mother could say all of that with just a look. Ask anyone.

But this particular morning was different and he wouldn't have slept in even if he'd been able. So he stretched, gave himself a hearty shake and stripped off his nightclothes. He poured some water into a basin from the pitcher beside his bed and splashed his face mercilessly until he was well and truly awake. He would ordinarily have heated the water in a pot over the hearth first rather than subjecting himself to such torture, but there was no time for luxuries today.

So he rubbed his eyes clean, rinsed his mouth, and pulled on his work clothes and boots. Then he fastened his tool strap across his chest and at his waist before heading downstairs to start his chores. As his mother would say, _the sooner you start, the sooner you will finish._ He wouldn't normally care about what time he started _or_ finished on such a chilly morning, but there was nothing _normal_ about today.

After all, it wasn't every day that he became a man...and turning fourteen was a _very_ big deal.

_**Outlaw Camp, Sherwood Forest, Daniel's Birth Day, Late Autumn, 1194**_

"Will, _enough!_" Djaq snapped, shoving his hand—and the cool rag he'd been using to wipe her brow—forcefully away from her.

"Sorry," he mumbled, dropping the rag into the bowl of water next to their bed. He didn't know why he kept trying to sponge off her forehead even after she had told him repeatedly to stop. He just wanted to help but it seemed like he was only making things worse.

"Oh, I am sorry," she said in a pitiful voice, looking up at him from their bed. "I did not mean to get angry."

"No no. Shh. Don't apologize," he said, wanting so badly to reach out and touch her face or run his fingers through her hair in the way that always seemed to soothe her. But he didn't want to aggravate her further. "I just wish there was something I could _do_. I wish I could make it better somehow...or at least make it go _faster_."

She nodded and smiled weakly, reaching out and patting his hand briefly before she curled up into a ball and squeezed her eyes shut—overtaken by another pain.

Will _hated_ this!

He'd known that childbirth would be painful for her, but he hadn't understood just how _bad_ it would get. Or how _long_ it would go _on_. And he really hadn't anticipated just how helpless he would feel either. Each and every time she was gripped by another pain, Will prayed that it would be the last one. That Matilda would say that it was time to start pushing.

But each and every time, the pain would ease and Djaq would have only a few moments of respite before it started all over again. She was trying so hard to be brave about it and she was doing really great—all things considered. Will was really proud of her. He just wished that there was something he could _do_ besides sit here and wipe her forehead while muttering useless platitudes like _it'll be alright_ or _there there_.

He'd been so glad earlier when the pains of labor had seemed to be something she'd be able to handle without too much trouble. She'd said that it wasn't all that bad. A bit of squeezing in her belly and some back pain. A 'twinge' was how she'd described it. That was all.

She'd said that it was all quite bearable and she'd actually joked with him that she might even be able to get through it without breaking a sweat. He'd known that she was teasing, of course, but Djaq was the most extraordinary woman he'd ever known in his life and he'd figured that if _anyone_ could make it through childbirth in record time with little fuss, it would be her.

But that was _before_.

Before her pains had grown stronger and more frequent. Before they'd found that she barely had time to recover from one before the next one started. Before she was so winded from the assault on her body that she was lying there panting like a wounded animal. Will _hated_ seeing her that way.

"Why don't you walk her about the camp a bit more. It might help things along," Matilda said to Will once Djaq's contraction had started to ease.

He stood up quickly—immensely relieved to have something helpful to do at last—and helped Djaq get to her feet. He wrapped his arm around her back and paced his steps with hers. She didn't speak at all and he didn't expect her to. She just leaned on him for support as he walked her back and forth over the small surface of their camp, stopping to crouch down whenever she was hit with another pain.

They seemed to be coming on so quickly now and Will knew, from what both women had told him, that it was a good sign and that the labor was progressing as it should. But all he could think about was how unfair it was that poor Djaq barely had time to catch her breath each time before another pain ripped through her small body.

"Do you want to sit back down?" he asked her after they'd walked for quite a while. "You don't have to walk if you don't want to."

He heard Matilda click her tongue at him from where she was seated nearby, but he didn't care. All he cared about was Djaq's comfort and if she didn't want to walk, then no one was going to force her.

"No. Walking helps a bit," she answered in a ragged voice.

Will heard Matilda let out a very loud _hmph!_ but he chose to ignore her. He was well aware that she didn't approve of his presence. She'd made no secret at all of that fact. She said that childbirth was a woman's domain and that men did nothing but get in the way and make things worse.

Frankly, Will would've been inclined to agree with her were it not for the fact that Djaq had asked him to stay.

When Matilda had first arrived at the camp, sometime after Djaq's labor had begun, she'd shooed all of the men outside and told them to take with them whatever they thought they might need because they wouldn't be admitted back in until everything was over...which would probably be hours yet. Will had been about to head out with the others and was just giving Djaq one last kiss when she'd looked up at him quizzically and asked where he thought he was going.

It seemed that Djaq had always assumed that Will would be _with_ her when her time came.

Will, on the other hand, had naturally assumed he'd be someplace _else_. That he'd wait outside until someone called him in to show him his new son or daughter. That was the way things were always done and it had never occurred to him to do things any differently.

It wasn't that Will didn't _want_ to be near Djaq during such an ordeal. And it wasn't even that he would be bothered by the blood and all of that. It was because he'd just assumed that he'd be in the way. That he wasn't needed. That Djaq wouldn't want him there fussing over her and making everything worse.

So when she said she'd expected him to _be_ there, he'd been surprised and caught off-guard, to say the least. She'd taken his silence as deliberation on the matter, however, and had taken his face gently into her hands, looked him straight in the eyes, and—in a voice that was almost eerie in its sweetness—said, "If you find it so difficult to stay with me while I get your child _out_ of me, Will Scarlett, then perhaps I will think twice before allowing you to put anything _into_ me in the future."

His eyes had widened in shock at the bluntness of her words and even more so because he'd been afraid that she'd meant them. So he'd assured her that he had no objections to staying with her and had only hesitated because he'd been startled because they'd never discussed the matter fully before. That had seemed to satisfy her and he'd been with her ever since.

And he'd been _trying_ to help by wiping her brow, letting her squeeze his hand when she needed to, talking to her in order to take her mind off of the pain, and walking her back and forth across the camp. But mostly he'd just ended up being useless and he was sure that Matilda was right and that he was in the way. But Djaq seemed to need him there—despite her increasingly shorter temper with him and his ministrations—and that was reason enough for him to stay.

"If you need to shout, then go ahead. Please don't worry about being brave, Djaq," he said pleadingly as she came to a halt and doubled over again in pain.

She responded by wrapping one of her little hands so tightly around his forearm that it caused him to wince and then digging her blunt fingernails into his flesh with so much force that even through his tunic he knew that she'd left a mark and had probably drawn blood. He wondered briefly whether the action was a response to the pain she was experiencing or if it was her not-so-subtle way of showing him exactly what she thought of his advice..._and_ his timing.

"That was a big one," she huffed as she exhaled and tried to return to a standing position. "I...I think that we are getting close. Perhaps I should sit in the birthing chair now."

He guided her over to the birthing chair in the center of the camp. The one he'd made especially for her. She hadn't really liked the idea of using the same one that so many other women had used to deliver their babies. She'd said it didn't seem quite sanitary to her. And so Will had made her one of her very own a few months ago, using Matilda's as a guide.

There were piles of sheets and towels covering the floor beneath the chair to make for easier clean-up later on—which had been Much's idea, of course—and Will helped her step around them and get seated in a relatively comfortable position. Then he pulled up a stool so that he could once again sit beside her.

She reached over and ran her hand lovingly over his cheek. "Thank you," she said softly, still trying to catch her breath.

"What for?" he asked, capturing her fingers in his own and pressing them to his lips.

"For staying. I know that this is not easy for you."

"Hush now. Don't talk nonsense. _You're_ the one doing all the work. And now that I know you want me here, there's no place else I'd be," he assured her.

"You know, the others will surely tease you mercilessly for this," she said, grinning wickedly.

"Let them," he shrugged with a smile, relieved that she felt well enough to derive pleasure from the thought of Allan and the gang making fun of him.

But it was all too short-lived as, in the next second she was attacked by a pain so bad that rather than doubling over as she'd _been_ doing, she thrust her feet out in front of her, tossed her head back and arched her back until she was nearly completely unseated.

This time she _did_ cry out and it was the most horrible, most _agonizing_ sound that Will had ever heard in his life. It tore at his heart and he knew that, as long as he lived, he'd never forget the sound of her suffering or the look on her face. He never wanted her to have to experience anything like this ever again.

He and Djaq had already discussed the issue of more children several times. They'd both agreed that while one accidental pregnancy could probably be accommodated in the forest, to have another child after this one—while their lives were still wrought with danger—would be nothing short of irresponsible and cruel.

So they'd decided on a plan of combined methods for insuring that there were no further _accidents_. Djaq would use her monthly cycle to calculate the safest time for them to be together, and she would also ingest something immediately following every encounter. That should be enough to keep her from getting pregnant again until the king returned and pardoned them all or their circumstances changed drastically for the better in some other way. Then, and _only_ then, would they have more children.

At least, that had been the _plan_.

But now, after seeing what she had to go through in order to bring their child into the world, Will decided that he would never expect her to repeat such torture after this. And he was sure that she wouldn't want to anyway. This was nothing short of agony for her and he never wanted to put her through anything like it again.

He'd known that childbirth was painful for a woman. _Everybody_ knew that. But he'd never _imagined_ just how much. Maybe _this_ was why men were never allowed in the same room while a woman was giving birth. Maybe it was understood that once a man saw what his wife had to go through in order to bear his children, he'd do all that he could to avoid it in future. Maybe the survival of the species depended on men remaining blissfully ignorant.

He'd been too young to remember when his _own_ mother had given birth to Lukey, but there'd been two babies that followed over the next few years—though neither had survived infancy. Will had been old enough by that time to be aware of what was happening, but all he remembered was spending the night at a neighbor's house and coming home the next morning to find a new edition to the family. It'd all seemed pretty easy to him. But now that he knew what was actually _involved_, he was surprised that his parents had ever had more than one child. Maybe they hadn't known how to prevent it like Djaq did.

But Will was absolutely certain that _this_ child would be the last one for them. When they had talked about having more children someday, both had been excited and happy about the prospect. But Will was positive that Djaq would never _ever_ want to go through this again and he was just as positive that _he'd_ never expect her to. So this would be it and he was fine with that. They didn't need a big family anyway. One child would be more than enough for both of them, he was sure.

_**Locksley Village, Daniel's Birthday, Late Autumn, 1208**_

Daniel bounded down the stairs, taking two at a time, eager to rush through his breakfast so that he could get on with his day.

"Well well. Look what the cat dragged in," came a little sing-song voice from off to his right.

"Do you even know what that means?" Daniel asked, quirking his eyebrow at his youngest sister.

She shrugged and dipped her spoon back into her porridge for another bite. "Nope. But that's what Uncle Much says every time I show up at his house. Soon as he opens up the door he says, 'Well well. Look what the cat dragged in.' So it prob'ly means that cats are always dragging stuff inside," she concluded proudly through a mouthful of her breakfast.

"That doesn't even make any sense, Salma," he said with an amused shake of his head.

"Does _so_."

"Besides you know what Umm told you about repeating things you don't understand. Remember how much trouble you got into that time you repeated that song you heard Uncle Allan singing?" he reminded her.

The four-year-old's eyes widened in fear and she nodded solemnly. "But...but...I didn't _know_ that song was about bad words. _Honest_."

"I know. But that's why you're not suppose to repeat everything you hear other people say."

"But Uncle Much wouldn't say any bad words..._would_ he?" she asked, crinkling up her nose the way that Umm always did when she was trying to figure something out.

"Ba' words!" Simon—who was three and in the habit of repeating anything and everything _he_ heard—exclaimed happily.

"No no, Simon. Shh. No bad words," Salma ordered from beside him at the table.

"Ba' _words_!" he repeated, now more determined than ever after discovering that he had his sister's full attention.

"_Laa!_ Stop saying that _please_. You're gonna get me in _trouble_," she pleaded as she tried to shut him up by shoving a giant spoonful of porridge into his open mouth.

"Ba' words!" Simon managed to choke out anyway.

"Who is saying bad words, Little One?"

Daniel laughed at the look on Salma's face as their mother appeared as if from out of nowhere. She had a habit of doing that and Daniel suspected that she had heard the entire exchange.

"Nobody, Umm. Nobody's saying bad words." Salma shook her head emphatically and shot Daniel a pleading look. "_I_ didn't. And Simon _sure_ didn't copy me when I did."

"Oh I see. Well then that is a relief," their mother chuckled. Then she turned to Daniel and said to him with a wink, "And I do not think that you look at all like something a cat dragged in."

Salma gasped and covered her mouth with her hands while Simon mimicked her actions merely because he always wanted to do everything _she_ did.

Daniel rolled his eyes. "It's not a bad word, Salma."

"Ba' _words_!" Simon shouted gleefully.

"No no, my Little One. No one is saying bad words today." His mother admonished him. "For today is a very _special_ day." And she enveloped Daniel in a great big hug.

"I forgot!" Salma exclaimed. "Happy birthday," she said to Daniel.

"_Shukran_," he replied.

"I want it to be _my_ birthday too," the little girl announced.

"Well I am afraid that you will have to wait. Your birthday is not until the spring," Their mother said evenly.

"No fair!" Salma pouted.

"Ah, but as I often remind you, Little One, life is rarely fair. And we shall have none of that pouting today. It is Daniel's birthday and we must do all that we can to make it a special day." She turned to Daniel. "Happy birthday," she said, standing on her tip toes to kiss him on the forehead.

"_Shukran_. But it's no big deal, really. It's just another day, right?" He waved a hand dismissively.

"Just another day, is it?" she smirked at him. "Is that why you are up before the crack of dawn and already dressed and ready for work?"

He laughed.

"Will Mary be joining us tonight?" she asked.

"Uh, no. I don't think so. It's...it's a long way out to the forest and we'll probably end up sleeping out there. Her father won't like that. It...it doesn't matter anyway. I don't really care if she's there or not. It's just for the family."

"And Bart," she said.

"Right. And Bart."

"But not Mary." She said it as a statement, as if she were agreeing with his assessment of things, but really it was a question and Daniel knew it.

"I told you she probably can't go. And that's fine with me. Really."

His mother just stood there with her hands on her hips and her eyebrows arched for a moment or two as if to let him know that she couldn't be fooled so easily so he shouldn't even try. How did she _do_ that?

"Really," he repeated weakly, squirming under her scrutiny.

"Alright," she said after a moment. "It is up to you, of course. But if you like, I can go and speak with her father and assure him that she will be perfectly safe with us and that she is more than welcome to join us. You need only ask me," she said.

"No no, it's alright."

She shrugged. "As I say, it is up to you. Now come and sit down. It is not everyday that I get to have breakfast with a grown man of fourteen," she teased.

"No. I...I can't." He shifted his gaze from hers so that she wouldn't see how conflicted he was.

"You keep so busy lately that I almost never see you anymore. Is everything alright?" she asked, narrowing her eyes.

"Yeah. It's just...I...I'm going to skip breakfast this morning, if that's okay. I'm too excited to eat so I'm going to start my chores early so that I can be done before everybody gets here."

"Oh," she said, looking at him strangely. "I see. Very well then. On your way out, will you poke your head in the workshop and tell your sister to come in here and eat her porridge please before it gets cold?"

"Okay."

"Me and Simon are too `cited for porridge too, Umm. We want eggs instead." Daniel heard Salma declaring—in what she clearly thought was her most _grown_ up voice—as he threw on his coat. He ignored the growling in his stomach and headed out the back door just in time to hear his little brother repeat "_Eggs_!" and his mother answer with a patient but definite "_No_!"

When he reached the door to his father's workshop he paused long enough to inhale the deeply familiar scents of wood and metal. Those smells—more than anything else—reminded Daniel of home. Of the hours spent working with his father, either in silent concentration over some particularly tricky piece, or in animated conversation while they applied the finishing touches to something they were both immensely proud of. Or just sitting and talking about the future or the past or even the present as they both whittled away—their hands working with a mind and determination all their own. Those were some of the best times of his life.

He was called out of his reverie by the sound of his sister Janey chatting away happily over the steady scraping of the file as their father was no doubt rounding off the edges on the cradle Uncle Robin had ordered. "And so he ended up drowning all because he thought his reflection was pretty and he wanted to _kiss_ himself. Isn't that silly, Daddy?"

"_Very_ silly," Dad answered in an indulgent voice. Daniel could tell that the six year old had probably told him the same story at least four times already.

Daniel made his presence known. "`Morning."

"Hey! It's the birthday boy. Happy birthday!" Dad said, putting aside his file and coming over to give Daniel a hug. "Wow, you're up early. It's rather nippy this morning so I figured I'd have to get your mother to rouse you about an hour from now."

"Nah. I wanted to get an early start," he answered as Janey leaped off her stool and landed in his arms.

"Happy birthday, _akh_!" And after she'd finished squeezing the life out of him, she tried to plant kisses all over his face until he finally had to push her gently away.

"Enough already," he laughed.

She had always been that way with him. Ever since the day she was born. Although Daniel had been a mere seven years old at the time, he remembered very clearly the way that she had locked eyes with him and wrapped her teeny tiny hand around his finger when he'd been allowed to hold her that first time.

For some reason she worshipped the ground he walked on. Always had. In fact, the first word she'd ever spoken was _akh_ and her first steps were stumbled right into his open arms. Daniel had no idea what he'd ever done to warrant such love and adoration from her, but it made him incredibly happy and proud none the less.

His parents had been worried that the age difference between him and his siblings would end up creating distance between them. But it never had. He prided himself on being a good big brother—both of his parents having always told him the importance of such a role—and he loved both of his sisters and his brother very much.

"Umm wants you. She said to come in and eat," he informed her. Then, to his father, he said, "I'm about to collect the eggs, feed the chickens, and milk Berta. Then I'll be here to help you finish up the piece for Uncle Robin."

"Did you have your breakfast already?" Dad asked, surprised.

"I'm not hungry. Too excited," he answered evasively.

"Daniel, you can't keep avoiding her. It's not fair. You're gonna have to talk to her about it eventually," his dad said, proving that his mother was not the only one who knew him too well. "Your mother loves you and she'll understand. Trust me. Just do it."

"I know...I just..._can't_. I mean, I _will_...just...just not today."

"Are you keeping secrets from Umm?" Janey asked him.

Oh great. "No. Not secrets. Just...just _stuff_. Don't worry about it. It's not important. Go inside before Umm has to come out and get you."

"_What_ stuff?" she inquired, hands folded in her lap and a very serious look upon her face.

Sometimes she seemed to Daniel like someone far older than she actually was. She had always been an absolutely brilliant child. She had somehow started reading at the very young age of four—despite the fact that Umm hadn't even _begun_ trying to teach her yet—and she had simply never stopped. She read books that, by all rights, should be far beyond her understanding. But she just couldn't seem to get enough. It got to the point where Dad suggested it might be a good idea if Umm moved all of her medical texts and 'grown-up' books somewhere that Janey couldn't reach just in case her curiosity got the better of her.

She could usually be found either with her nose in a book—the Greek tales being her favorites—or engaged in conversation with people far older than _she_ was. She had little patience for her younger siblings and most children her own age were either intimidated by her manner and vocabulary or simply found her too difficult to relate to.

Adults, however, seemed to think she was delightful and were constantly making a fuss over how smart she was and what a little grown up she seemed to be. So she naturally gravitated towards older people and she never seemed the least bit bothered by the fact that just about every person she considered a 'friend' was twice her age or more.

Umm said that she was too smart for her own good sometimes and that she needed more boundaries, but Dad always argued that they should let her explore the world her own way and in her own time. So everybody pretty much just accepted that she was different—'_special_' as Umm and Dad called it—and so they ended up talking to her like a grown-up most of the time simply out of habit.

"Just...just _man_ stuff. Okay?" he answered because it was the first thing that popped into his head.

"Umm and Auntie Marian say there's no such thing as _man stuff_ and that anything a man can do, a woman can usually do _twice_ as good," she responded haughtily.

"_Well_," Daniel corrected her.

"Well, what?" she asked.

"Anything a man can do, a woman can do twice as _well_," he repeated.

"Yes. That's what Umm and Auntie Marian always say too."

"No, I mean...oh never mind," he said.

Dad laughed. "You know better than to try and argue with that one, son. She's more clever than all the rest of us put together."

"So what kind of stuff?" she pressed on, looking for all the world as if it had never occurred to her that there could be anything in Daniel's life that she shouldn't be privy to.

"_Nothing_!" he said with much more sharpness than he'd intended. "I told you not to worry about it, it's none of your business, okay?"

Rather than being hurt or offended, the little girl stood up to her full height—which had the effect of being rather comical considering how small she was—and placed her hands on her hips in an attempt to stare him down for a moment. Daniel had to blink and shake his head because she resembled his mother so much at that moment that it was unnerving.

Finally, she conceded. "Fine," she shrugged. "Hey, on the way out to the forest later, want me to tell you the story of Narcissus?"

"Yeah, sure...I guess," he said, surprised by the sudden change in subject. He had to remind himself that, despite how precocious and intelligent she was, she was still just a little girl of six.

"Great! Have you ever heard it? It's about this guy who—"

"Janaan, run along now and eat your breakfast. Daniel's busy. The story can wait until later." Dad was the only one who ever called her by her real name. Everybody else just called her Jane or Janey.

It was weird, come to think of it, because she was named after Dad's mother. So it seemed like _he_ would be the one to call her Jane. But he always called her Janaan.

He said that he and Umm had made a deal a long time ago that their first daughter would have an Arabic name that meant something pretty. And so he always liked to remind himself of that by calling her by her given name, which meant 'heart'. Even Umm called her Janey most of the time, but Dad never did.

"Okay, Daddy!" Janey answered as she skipped out the door with Daniel following closely behind in order to begin his daily chores.

_**Outlaw Camp, Sherwood Forest, Daniel's Birth Day, Late Autumn, 1194**_

"Don't push. I know it's hard but you've got wait for the right time. Then you can push with all your might," Matilda said, patting her hand encouragingly.

Djaq knew the truth in what Matilda was saying. It was the same advice she herself had given to laboring women often enough over the past several months. But now she was discovering just how very _difficult _it really _was_. It was almost as if her body had already made the decision _for_ her and was trying to expel the baby on its own...without her participation if need be.

And suddenly she had the feeling that everything was moving far too quickly.

For months now, she'd been more than ready to have the whole thing over and done with. The sooner the better, as far as she was concerned. She'd wanted the pregnancy at an end and her baby in her arms. Pregnancy was just too limiting...too restrictive...it kept her out of too many of life's important happenings. But now that the moment had finally arrived, Djaq was once again hit with some of the worries which she thought she'd dealt with months earlier.

That perhaps she wasn't ready to be a mother.

She might one day forget to _feed_ the baby. Or she might set it down somewhere and not be able to remember _where_...babies were _awfully_ tiny. Or perhaps she would get cross and shout at him or her once too often and the child would grow up frightened and timid and maybe even _hating_ her.

There were so _many_ ways in which she could end up letting her child down.

And it wasn't only that. There was also the fact that for now, while her child was still nestled safely inside of her own body, she could still protect him or her. The dangers of the forest, the Sheriff, war or prejudice didn't really pose a threat.

Not yet.

Not while she could reach a hand down and feel the familiar bulge in her belly that told her that all was right with the world. That everything was ordered and perfect and that her child was exactly where it _belonged_...cocooned within the warmth of her womb...where nothing could harm it.

But once the baby was born, protecting it would become a whole lot more difficult. Impossible, maybe. And she just didn't know if she—if _they_—would be able to do it.

She sighed heavily under the weight of it all and Will—who had just reentered the camp after giving the gang an update on her condition— frowned down at her. "Is there anything I can do to help? Anything at all?" he asked quietly.

She was on the verge of snapping that she would find it quite _helpful_ if he could simply take over for her now and finish the labor while she had a nice nap. But she held her tongue and merely shook her head instead.

He looked so incredibly young and inexperienced at that moment. Just as frightened and unprepared as _she _felt. He, too must have been wondering how on earth they were ever going to be able to pull this off. What had they been _thinking_? They could barely keep _themselves_ safe some days... How were they _ever_ going to keep a _child_ safe? How were they ever going to give him or her any sort of foundation for a good life? Forget normal... What was _normal_ anyway? But at least their son or daughter deserved to be able to go through childhood without having to perfect the art of running for its life as soon as it took its first steps!

"Marian's here," Will's voice broke into her thoughts. "I told her I'd ask you if it was okay for her to come in...you know, because she's a woman and all...but she said that she wouldn't want to get in the way since me and Matilda are already in here. She said she wouldn't really be any use to you anyway," he explained.

Djaq nodded, not having the strength to do much else.

"John's dozing under a tree and Allan's wondering if you're going to be much longer." She angled her head toward him and knitted her eyebrows quizzically. "I _think_ he was joking. I told him to come in here and ask you that _himself_. Needless to say, he declined," he gave a small laugh. "Robin's having a ball showing off with his bow now that Marian's here and Much is pacing back and forth and muttering to himself. He's not happy at _all_. I can't tell if he's upset because I'm in _here_ or because he's out _there_."

"Both probably," was all she could manage as Will once again took a seat at her side.

He picked up the small piece of wood he'd been working with on and off throughout the day—mostly as a means of keeping himself occupied and channeling his nerves, she was sure—and he turned it over in his hands a few times before choosing a section to plunge into with his knife. But he kept a concerned eye on her all the while, a small frown playing on his lips.

Once again she sighed. She wished she could at least get comfortable enough to rest before the next pain. But her lower back felt like she'd been beaten. Repeatedly. She was nauseous, but her stomach was empty from the number of times she'd vomited already that day. Her throat and mouth were incredibly dry, her lower lip was sore and tasted of blood from biting down on it each time a pain hit her, and her head was pounding horribly.

And she was tired.

So _very_ tired. She was tired of being in pain and uncomfortable. She was tired of thinking...of worrying. She was worn out from trying to keep her temper in check and not grow angry or impatient with Will—who was trying his very best to help. And she was growing weary of Matilda's constant presence, even though she knew that wasn't fair.

The woman had had to make a special trip to the forest and spend all day here because it would have been too dangerous for Djaq to give birth in the village. So the least she deserved was friendliness...but Djaq was _tired_ of being friendly. It was taking all of her effort just to keep from giving in to her body's demands, pushing with all her might, and screaming out at the top of her _lungs_.

She closed her eyes and tried to think of something pleasant. Something that would draw her thoughts away from the pain and fatigue and help her to relax. Even if only until the next pain started.

Her mind drifted for a few seconds and then landed, seemingly of its own accord, on her homeland. It was a strange thought to have at a time like this because there was nothing particularly calming or soothing about Acre anymore. The happiness and beauty she'd known in childhood had been wiped away by war and death and there was no real reason that her mind should have chosen such a thing to focus on.

But still...she _did_ miss the comfortable warmth of the air just as the sun set each day and right before the cold crispness of night set in. And she missed the strong aroma of _al-kamuwn_ that assaulted the senses with each and every breath one took out of doors around supper time.

She missed the noisy hum of the market at midday—with buyers haggling for the best prices, vendors shouting to advertise their wares, and mothers scolding wayward children. Then there were the foods, the language, the sand...

In that moment, her heart ached for her home—a land she was relatively certain she would never again lay her eyes upon—and she allowed herself to be swept away in the swirl of memories that suddenly and inexplicably brought her a bit of comfort...

_**Locksley Village, Daniel's Birthday, Late Autumn, 1208**_

Daniel went about his chores with purpose that morning.

He walked gingerly around and picked up the eggs that lay scattered about the coop. He grabbed handfuls of feed and tossed it here and there, watching as the chickens gathered round and started pecking furiously at the ground wherever it fell.

Then he pulled out his hammer and pounded one of the slats of the chicken coop back into the ground where he'd noticed it had been coming loose—just one of the many ways that the family's home had fallen into a bit of disrepair from being uninhabited for nearly an entire year while they were visiting the Holy Land.

And as he worked, his mind inevitably drifted back to the problem he just didn't know quite how to solve. His Dad was right, though. He knew that it wasn't fair to keep avoiding his mother. But he just couldn't stand the thought of hurting or disappointing her.

Daniel sighed as he set the basket of eggs just outside the back door and went around to the side of the house where the family's goat was kept. He shook his head in order to free his mind from its torturous thoughts, but it was no use. He couldn't stop thinking about it all any more than he could figure out what to _do_ about any of it.

It wasn't just the stuff with his mother either. There was also the problem of Mary. But he knew that _that_ situation wasn't something he could even _begin_ deal with until he'd worked out the other problem he was facing...the problem _he'd_ created himself. There was no way that he'd be able to explore his feelings for Mary as long as there was the very good possibility that he'd be leaving Locksley—leaving _England_—again. This time probably for years...

Daniel's father had always said that he wanted to be able to take Umm back home for a visit someday. At first, of course, they had been needed in the forest by Uncle Robin. So they'd always known they would have to wait. And then later, when they'd moved into the village, Janey had come along and they'd had to put off the trip until she was old enough to travel such a distance. Then Umm had been carrying Salma, and then Simon shortly after.

Besides, by that time, Umm had patients who relied on her and Dad had built up his reputation as a fine craftsman to such an extent that he had orders coming in from all _over_. Enough to keep him busy for years to come. And Umm had always said that she was content in England. That she had chosen her life a long time ago and she knew it was unlikely she would ever see her birthplace again.

And it wasn't as if she couldn't keep in touch with her friends and family over there. Ysaac—a traveling merchant who had been a friend of the family for as long as Daniel could remember—came through Nottingham each year in order to bring her letters from the people back home and to carry her letters to _them_. He always brought Daniel wonderful gifts from all over the world too.

He also brought Dad orders for his special cradles—so painstakingly crafted and decorated that no two were ever alike—and paid him handsomely for the ones he'd already made. Thanks to Ysaac's help, the cradles had earned the Scarlett family quite a decent amount of money over the years...more than Dad could _ever_ have made just selling his crafts in Nottingham.

Ysaac had always spent a few days with the family each time before heading off on another long trip to who knew where, and Daniel had often thought it must be wonderful to get to see so many of the people and places that he had only read or heard about.

But then, the autumn before last, he hadn't come through town. And when he hadn't shown up by that winter either, Daniel's parents had started to worry. Ysaac would never have skipped his yearly trip to see them and they knew that something must have happened. The following spring, Umm had received a letter by special messenger from Bassam—her dear family friend in Acre—telling her that Ysaac had died peacefully in his sleep several months earlier.

Ysaac had been a very old man and had lived a very full life, but still, it was hard to let go of a friend. He'd been a wonderful storyteller and had been a great source of enjoyment for them over the years and they would miss him dearly. But losing him also meant that Umm had lost her only reliable connection to her homeland. It was nearly impossible to find someone who would carry messages back and forth between England and the Holy Land. Even though the war was over, there were still a lot of hurt feelings on both sides.

So Dad had surprised her by planning a trip to the Holy Land.

He had stopped taking on new work—passing off anything that came in to a carpenter friend a few villages over—and had given himself time to complete all of his open projects and orders. And he'd told Umm to make sure that her patients knew that she would be gone for several months...maybe even longer.

He'd asked for Uncle Robin's permission to make the journey and had gotten an admonishment from him instead about how such formalities were not required. But Daniel's father had insisted that it was only right considering Uncle Robin was Lord of Locksley. So Uncle Robin had laughingly given his full consent.

And so, a little less than a year ago, the family—Daniel, his parents, Janey, Salma, and Simon—had finally made the long and very exhausting trip to the East. They'd had to travel by boat from England to the European Continent, then over land for quite a ways, and then on an even _larger_ boat that took them right into Acre's port.

The journey itself was extremely difficult and trying as they'd faced harsh weather, fickle winds and unfriendly people. Daniel's parents had had their hands full dealing with the two little ones on the way, and so Janey had naturally clung to Daniel. Even the dangers they'd faced along the way didn't really seem to faze her very much as she'd seemed completely confident that there was nothing her big brother could not protect her from. And appearing strong for her sake had helped Daniel to keep his mind off of the fact that he was leaving behind everything he knew and found comfort in and was slowly but surely edging closer to the unknown world of his dreams.

But it had all been worth it as from his first glimpse of Acre—from aboard the ship still out at sea—everything in his life had suddenly made complete and utter sense. And when Daniel had taken his first steps onto the cobbled streets of the city of his ancestors—the place that had lived in his imagination for as long as he could remember—a part of him knew that he had come home.

He'd spent his life listening to the stories about the place his mother had once called home. From bedtime stories, to details that had come up while she'd been instructing him on their faith, to her answers to his eager questions while they'd collected herbs or did the washing or just sat by the stream enjoying the peace and quiet.

Her descriptions were always so vivid...so full of colors and sounds and scents. She would always get so involved in talking about her land, her people and her language...their foods, faith, and way of life that to Daniel it had always seemed like the most magical place in the world.

And nothing about finally seeing it in person had belied that feeling.

The first time they'd heard the call to prayer after their arrival, and had prostrated themselves before Allah along with nearly everyone else in the city, Daniel's mother had wept as he'd never seen her do before. And he could certainly understand why. It was the most _incredible_ thing that Daniel had _ever_ been a part of. There was such a feeling of peace and community and when each person had turned and offered Allah's blessings to the person on their right and left, Daniel had nearly wanted to cry too. There was such love in the air...such fellowship. And he had never felt closer to God than he had at that moment.

And the prayers themselves—spoken out in his mother's tongue...the language that had been such an important and unique part of his childhood in England—had sounded so much sweeter when chanted in so many voices at once. At home it had always been him and his mother alone who'd had said the words and made the gestures—at least until Janey had grown old enough to participate. But there it had been nearly _everyone_. The entire city came to a standstill five times each day as every man, woman, and child took up the prayer and came together in a way that words simply could not describe.

And the people were all so _friendly_ to them too. Daniel had been warned by his parents to expect some suspicion and reservations on the part of some of the people they encountered. Because of Dad being English and a Christian. And there _had_ been a few sideways glances and even a few dirty looks...but, all in all, they were welcomed and treated like long lost family. Especially by Bassam and his household.

And they'd even gotten to visit with some of Umm_'_s distant relations. _Daniel's_ relations. It was amazing. Daniel had had occasion, a few times over the years, to spend a bit of time with Uncle Luke—Dad's brother—and also with Dad's Aunt Annie and her family. And of course, everyone in Locksley had known Daniel's grandparents—Dan and Jane Scarlett—and were always showing him things his grandfather had made ages ago or telling him stories about some aspect of his family's past.

But Daniel's mother had always seemed to exist a little separate from everyone and everything around her. As much as she was a part of village life and an important part of the community, she had no roots there—at least none dating back before she'd joined Uncle Robin and Dad and the others. But to finally actually see her face to face with her relatives, and to know that their blood was some of the same blood that coursed through Daniel's _own_ veins, had awakened in him a pride and a self-awareness he had never known before.

And then there was the very strange sensation of hearing Arabic spoken by nearly every person they met, in every home they visited, on every cobbled corner and in every shop they patronized.

Arabic.

Everywhere.

That very melodic language that had always seemed almost sacred to Daniel. It had been the language of his mother's magical stories, of her lullabies, of their faith. For so long, it had been the special language that only the _two_ of them had shared. His father had learned to understand quite a bit of it, but he wasn't very good at speaking it—having had little opportunity for doing so in Nottingham—and so it had belonged almost exclusively to Daniel and his mother.

Like so many other things.

Like their darker coloring—which, in Nottingham, had always made them stand out a little in a crowd. Even if Daniel _hadn't_ been the son of two of Robin Hood's famous outlaws, he would still have found it a challenge to go unnoticed in the midst of so many light complexions.

And like their faith—practiced quietly, in the privacy of their home. It wasn't a secret, really. Their friends and neighbors knew they were Muslim, of course. But most people simply did not understand it and so it was always easiest and safest to practice it in private.

But in Acre, they had just seemed to blend in...to become a part of the city and its people in a way that Daniel had never imagined possible. It was all so comforting yet wondrous at the same and Daniel had tried his best to commit it all to memory. He'd never wanted to forget a single moment. And he'd wanted to be a source of information for his younger siblings—who were still too young to fully appreciate all that they were seeing and experiencing—in years to come when they had questions.

It was all so different. So marvelous. The libraries, the mosques, the markets. It was incredible and so _terribly_ overwhelming. Daniel's mother, seeing his excitement, had taken him out alone on several occasions to show him the things that she'd only been able to _tell_ him of before. So Dad—having been unable to stand the heat some days—had stayed behind with the little ones while Daniel and his mother had explored the city and beyond like natives.

She'd shown him the places where she'd played as a young girl, introduced him to the street foods that she and her brother had loved as children, shown him some of the hiding places she remembered, high above the city, where she and her brother had sat and watched the market goers for hours at a time.

And she'd shown him some of the land that had once belonged to her father...land that she'd explained to him, for the first time, would one day be _his_. She told him about the wealth that had been her family's and how some of that was still in her possession. And that while _she_ had no use for it, it was her and Dad's wish that it would one day pass to Daniel...who could do with it as he pleased.

Owning land was something Daniel had never contemplated before.

It was such a strange concept to him. He knew, of course—from studying history and religion—that claiming land as one's own was supposed to be extremely important. Wars had been fought and lives lost over land ownership since the beginning of time—the very city of Acre being a prime example.

And Daniel was well aware of the way the nobles in Nottingham and the surrounding shires measured their worth by how much land they could call _their own_. Even Uncle Robin, who was one of the most benevolent and generous lords who'd ever lived, prided himself on having recovered his family's estate because he considered the lands to be rightfully _his_.

But to people like Daniel...to those like Dad and their neighbors, "land" had a very different meaning. _They_ belonged to the _land_. Never the other way around. They lived and died on that land. They worked it until their fingers bled and their joints ached. They gave it all they had and it _took_ whatever they gave. But it was never _theirs_. It belonged to someone else and always would. That was understood and accepted. It was how they lived. And died. And no one really questioned it.

So Daniel understood the great honor and responsibility that went along with his mother's gift to him and he'd thanked her accordingly, but he'd also been taken rather aback by the enormity of the whole thing. His mother and father had understood that and had assured him that it was not their intention to overwhelm or put any pressure on him. They'd explained that they just wanted him to have choices.

Choices.

Daniel knew the rarity of simple village folks like the Scarlett family being in a position to offer their son _choices_. They, and people like them, were born to their lot in life. It was as simple as that. You followed the profession of your father...and his father. Opportunities for change or advancement were few and people like them were almost _never_ given _choices_.

But _Daniel_ was was now quite certain that _his_ life had been a whole lot simpler _before_ he'd had so many choices.

One of the places he'd visited in Acre on the outings with his mother had been a _bimaristan_—one of the centers for health and wellness that set eastern medicine well ahead of that in Europe. Daniel had a decent amount of basic medical knowledge garnered over the years by having assisted his mother since he was a very young boy. He'd helped her gather plants, label and organize her medicines, clean and store her instruments, and research symptoms in her medical texts. And he'd often acted as her assistant in emergencies when no one else had been on hand.

Over the years of helping his mother, Daniel had become rather good at medicine and his mother—herself understanding how daunting such things could be for a child—had always been very careful never to ask him to take part in anything that made him uncomfortable. But Daniel honestly hadn't minded most aspects of it and, in fact, he'd rather enjoyed it for the most part. It wasn't like carpentry, of course, where you started with nothing and let the wood guide your hands until you had something useful or beautiful or, sometimes, even both. But medicine was interesting in its own way.

But seeing the physicians at the _bimaristan _had been absolutely amazing and had given Daniel a perspective on practicing medicine that he'd never considered.

Where European medicine was mainly about isolating the sick in order to keep them away from general society, Muslim physicians treated their patients with dignity...all the while providing them with the best possible care. They were concerned not only with the _treatment_ of illnesses, but also—perhaps _more_ so—with _prevention_. They studied diseases and the human body in an attempt to constantly remain one step ahead of illness rather than simply scrambling to find some means of tending to the body's symptoms once sickness had set in.

Daniel's mother had explained to them who her father was and about some of the work that she herself was doing in England and the staff at the _bimaristan_ had welcomed them and given them a complete tour of the facility. It was fascinating to see the work they were doing and Daniel and his mother had even been invited to observe the physicians as they went about their daily activities—seeing patients, making a record of any progress or setbacks, and consulting with one another over specific cases.

Umm had been so excited and she'd explained to Daniel, not for the first time, that it had always been her father's intention to send her to one of these facilities to learn medicine from some of the greatest physicians in the world. Of course, the war had changed her life irrevocably and studying medicine was just one of the things she'd lost along the way. But seeing her there, surrounded by so many like-minded men and women, made Daniel realize, perhaps for the first time, some of what his mother had missed out on in her life.

And when he and his mother had thanked them for their kindness and said their final goodbyes, and one of the physicians had asked Daniel if he would be following in the footsteps of his mother and grandfather, Daniel—for some reason that he still couldn't quite fathom—had instantly said _yes_.

Yes.

_Yes_, he wanted to be a physician. _Yes_, he wanted to study at the _bimaristan_ with the great minds of the world. _Yes_, he wanted to leave behind everything he knew, throw aside carpentry as no more than an enjoyable hobby, resign himself to seeing his family once every couple of _years_ at the most, and relocate to Acre in order to live out that dream.

His _mother's_ dream.

And he'd meant it at the time. His mother had been quite surprised by his answer and she and Dad had questioned him at length about his decision over supper that evening. They spoke to him about the loneliness he'd be facing living so far from home...from those who loved him. They spoke about how much they and his brother and sisters would miss him, about the differences between the life he was choosing and the simple village life to which he was accustomed, about everything he'd be taking on...and giving up.

But Daniel wouldn't be swayed. He'd been enchanted by the city and its customs. By the people and the foods and all of the culture that surrounded them. By the libraries, both public and private, that were filled with more books in more languages than Daniel had ever seen before in his life. Even though his mother had a decent little library of books at their home that would rival the finest collection in England, it was nothing compared to what he would have access to in Acre.

And he'd be able to converse with people about matters of far more importance than whose goat or cow was running dry and needed to be bred again before the winter or which wood made for sturdier fencing when the rains of spring were upon them. He'd be a part of progress and learning. He'd be making a difference in the world.

_And_ he'd be in a position to make up for some of what was so brutally taken from his mother so many years before.

Daniel knew all too well of the circumstances that had brought his mother to English shores. He remembered the day, many years ago now, that he had run home crying to his parents—angered and frightened beyond belief—over the nasty things that an older boy had told him about Umm.

Daniel had always just assumed that his mother had chosen her own destiny and had fled the war and devastation of her homeland in order to start a new life in a new country. He'd even wondered, from time to time, if she and Uncle Robin had met in Acre during the war and if perhaps his mother had come to England seeking out the man she'd befriended there.

His mother had never spoken to him of her journey to England and had, in fact, routinely dodged such questions whenever Daniel had tried to speak of it. And Dad and his uncles would always stick to the same story...

That they'd met her while she'd been traveling through their forest and she'd been the bravest woman they'd ever met. That she'd agreed to help them with a plan to foil the old Sheriff—the bad one—and had proven to be a blessing by using her considerable knowledge to save the life of Uncle John. Then she'd chosen to stay with them and join their fight for justice and they'd been glad to have her. End of story.

But Daniel now knew that that was only _half_ the story. The pretty half. The whole truth was ugly and disturbing and it had given Daniel nightmares for months once he'd fully understood its implications. He still shuddered whenever he thought of it. Of _her_. His mother...chained up like an animal by the English...Dad's people..._Daniel's_ people.

Knowing the truth—as scary and unpleasant as it was—had only made him respect and admire his mother more.

And once he'd found himself in a position to make up for some of that, by training and becoming a physician the way she'd always wanted to, he'd thrown himself behind the idea completely. He hadn't told his parents _why_ it was so important to him...only that it was. And so his mother, finally accepting his decision, had begun making arrangements for him to return to Acre in another year or so—when he was old enough to be on his own, she'd said—in order to live with Bassam and start his training.

During the several months the family had spent there, she'd bought him medical books, instruments and even woodcuts of the human body. She'd begun sharing with him more and more of her knowledge and her experience. She'd been so _excited_—more excited than Daniel had seen her in as long as he could remember. And he'd been so _glad_. Her happiness was the greatest part of it and Daniel had had no cause to regret his choice.

That is until they'd arrived back home.

_Home_.

The Scarletts had come ashore in Essex and had traveled north, bypassing Nottingham entirely, in order to spend some time up in Scarborough with Dad's brother and his family. It had been a nice visit and they had all enjoyed it very much—even if Dad did try a bit too hard, once again and to no avail, to convince Uncle Luke to move his family to Locksley and join Dad in his carpentry business. After a few weeks there, they had journeyed on to Bolsover, where Uncle John lived on the outskirts of town, and had passed a week there before riding on to Nottingham. To Locksley.

Home.

It was only then that Daniel had started to regret the choice he had made. When he'd smelled the trees and felt the rain and slept in his own bed. The bed that he and Dad had built together when it had been decided that Daniel was big enough to have his own room. Their whole house and just about everything in it was made by Daniel's father, with Daniel having helped out every step of the way. From the workshop outside, to Umm_'_s examination room right behind the kitchen, to the little rooms that had been added on as the family had expanded. Every board was carefully chosen and placed. Split and sawed and sanded and nailed. Every part of it was handcrafted with love and care and it was _theirs_.

_His_.

And his family was there. And his uncles. And friends.

And Mary.

He'd never fully appreciated how much he loved his home...his village and its people...until he'd been away for so long. And now that he was back, he just didn't think he'd be able to leave again. And he really didn't _want_ to.

While there was, of course, plenty of wood in Acre and the artisans there crafted incredible pieces out of it, Daniel now knew that there was nothing quite so satisfying as spending an evening with his whittling knife and a block of good English oak or birch, and seeing what developed.

And the libraries and mosques he'd visited there—which at the time had seemed so impressive and even _vital_ to his existence—now seemed a distant second to the news his friends and neighbors had to share and the speculation over which courting couple would be the next to marry or which crops were most likely to thrive come next year.

And as much as Daniel had loved his holiday in the east, he now knew that it was only that. A holiday. That his life was here. But he'd already given his word. To his mother, of all people. He couldn't _possibly_ disappoint her now. Not after all she'd lost and given up in her life.

Daniel's father, sensing his preoccupation since their return, had finally coaxed the whole story out of Daniel a few days ago. Dad had said that the only thing to be done was to tell Umm the truth. That she loved Daniel and wanted him to be happy. That she'd understand.

But Daniel just _couldn't_. He felt like he'd given her back a part of herself and he just couldn't bear to strip her of it once again. To leave her alone, a foreigner, in a strange land. Daniel's love of her homeland and his intention to carry on in the footsteps of her father had reaffirmed her roots...reestablished the connection to her past that must have seemed gone forever. And he just couldn't take that away from her.

Dad had told him—_continued_ to tell him—that secrets between people who love each other never lead to anything good and he'd even offered to speak to Umm on Daniel's behalf. But Daniel knew that part of being a man was taking responsibility for your own choices, and so he was determined to do just that. Whether that meant confessing to his mother that he'd been mistaken about where his future lay, or accepting the consequences of what he'd created and going ahead with his plan to return to Acre, remained to be seen.

Either way...someone was bound to be disappointed.

_**Outlaw Camp, Sherwood Forest, Daniel's Birth Day, Late Autumn, 1194**_

"I can't..._do _it!" Djaq managed in a strained voice as she huffed and pushed through another contraction.

"Well you've got little choice now, love," Matilda told her matter-of-factly from her position near Djaq's feet. "The babe is on its way whether you're willing or not."

"You can do it, Djaq. You're doing really well," Will encouraged in what he clearly thought was a strong and soothing voice. But Djaq could hear the fear and panic there and she didn't find it the least bit encouraging.

"No! No I can_not_. It is too..._difficult_," she groaned as she collapsed back against the chair.

"You _can_. I _know_ you can. You're doing great," he said.

"Will you stop _saying_ that! I am not doing 'great'." She cursed the way her tongue rolled the "r" in "great". Her fatigue was making her accent heavy and far more pronounced than it usually was. "And I cannot _do_ it anymore. It hurts and I am tired."

"You _can_," he insisted. "You're strong. You're almost finished now."

"No I am _not_! You keep saying those things because you think that you are _helping_ me but you do not _understand_. It is too difficult. I am not _almost _finished. I am finished _now_. I will not do it any more. I am done," she declared firmly, folding her arms across her chest.

"What? But...but...but you can't _quit_. It's...how...but...but the _baby's_ almost here." If she hadn't been so completely miserable, she would have laughed at the perplexed and astonished look on his face and the way that his arms flailed wildly about as he gestured desperately through his panic.

"I do not care," she said stubbornly. She would stand her ground. That was it. She would _not_ allow them to bully her into carrying on with this...this..._torture_!

"Can't you just _give_ her something? Something for the pain?" Will pleaded with Matilda. "She's _hurting_ and she's not even getting any time to rest between contractions anymore. It's...She's...she's _suffering_. Give her something. _Please_."

Djaq saw Matilda sigh heavily before gathering her patience and speaking. "_This_ is why I do not allow husbands in the room. Now for the _last_ time, anything I gave her to ease the pains would only slow the whole process down and delay the labor. We don't want to _do_ that. Besides, it's much too late for that now anyway. The child has made its descent and is coming regardless of what we do at this point. But if Djaq continues doing her part," here she looked pointedly at Djaq, "and pushes these last few times, things'll go a whole lot quicker and it'll be easier on her body _and_ the baby."

"But—" Will tried.

"_But_ nothing. Now make yourself useful and keep on encouraging her. She'll have another pain coming along in just a minute and she'll need to give it all she's got this time," Matilda ordered, essentially ending all discussion.

But Djaq had no energy left to push. She had nearly bitten a hole clean through her bottom lip from all of the effort she'd put into the last one. She was certain that one more pain would kill her. That was it. There was no way she would be able to survive another.

It wasn't just the painful squeezing either. It was the way that her body almost seemed to put everything else on hold and _force_ her to push. She found it very difficult to breathe, the muscles in her throat constricted painfully, she was trembling, and her head ached like nothing she'd ever felt before from all of the straining.

She just wanted to _sleep_. _That_ would be blissful. For a brief instant she even envied Emma, the mother who'd had to have surgery in order to deliver her child a month or so ago. What Djaq wouldn't give to have someone give her something to make her sleep and then awake later on to find her child being placed in her arms and that the whole ordeal was over and done with.

But of course that was ridiculous. She did not _really_ wish to have her child cut from her body. She only wanted to be able to rest. To perhaps postpone all of this for another day...a day when she was stronger...more prepared. Perhaps if she concentrated very hard she could keep the contractions at bay.

Yes. She would insist that her body put a stop to this. Right now. Surely if she prayed hard enough Allah would have mercy upon her—just as He had always done when things had seemed hopeless—and she could put this off until tomorrow.

She closed her eyes and tried her best to force her body to relax, even as she felt the next pain coming on. It was no use, however. She cried out as loud as she could in an effort to breathe as the intensity of it slammed her against the back of the birthing chair. She couldn't see or even _think_ as her lower body pushed with full force.

"Are you alright?" Will asked timidly after a few seconds. As the pain eased a bit, she opened her eyes to find him leaning over her with a frightened look on his face.

"Oh yes. I am _lovely_, Will. Thank you for asking!" she snapped.

"Sorry. It's just that...you were calling...you were screaming for your father. I think. You called out '_Ab_' over and over. That's father, right? I...I just...I was afraid you were...I don't know..." He sat back on his stool and rubbed the back of his neck roughly.

_Had_ she called out to her father? She did not _recall_ doing so. She had not _intended_ to do so. Why would she call for _him_? He was long dead and in no position to help her now. Long gone were the days when soothing words from him and a kiss on the forehead could erase whatever troubled her—from nightmares, to skinned knees, to fears over the approaching armies outside the city. It did not make sense. It was not rational. In her pained state she must have gotten confused.

"You...you're doing really well. I know it's hard, but you can do it," Will again attempted to be encouraging.

But this time it was just too much for her. "_Stop_ saying that! You _know_ that this is _hard_? How? How would you know _anything_ about it? You are a man and you do _not_ understand!"

"I...I know. I'm sorry. I—"

"And will you _stop_ saying that you are sorry! In the name of Allah! What are you sorry for?" she demanded, not carrying that Matilda was still with them.

"I...nothing...er...everything...I...I don't _know_," he stammered.

"That's _right_! You do _not_ know." She hissed.

He nodded weakly and bowed his head.

She was starting to hate herself for treating him this way but the truth was that lashing out at someone seemed to make everything a bit more manageable. And Will was _there_. Besides, she really did not have the strength or the energy to to suppress her irritation any longer. If he didn't like it, well then he could just get _out_. She didn't really need him with her anyway, did she? What was he really doing? Nothing. That was what. So he could just _go_.

As if reading her thoughts he said, "Would...would you rather I left you alone?" She met his gaze and the love and sadness she saw mingled there nearly broke her heart. "I don't wanna make things worse for you."

"No. _Please_ do not go. I am so sorry." His face blurred before her as her eyes pooled with tears. She blinked them back and reached for his hand.

"No. Shh shh. It's alright," he said, rubbing his thumb across the back of her hand. "I just want you to be comfortable."

"You are so good. You put up with so _much_ from me. Like before...when I made you think I did not love you...and now...when I treat you so badly. I...I do not deserve you," she sobbed.

"No. Don't you ever say that," he said with sudden determination, leaning in closer. "Every single day I remind myself that this is no dream. That you really do love me and that you're my wife. It's _I_ who could never deserve _you_. You are the best thing that's ever happened to me and I love you. I know you're in pain and you're tired and I would _never_ hold you responsible for anything you might say at a time like this. Okay?"

Nod.

"Good," he said gently, still stroking the back of her hand.

"Stay with me?" she asked, sniffling.

"Of course I will," he answered, leaning over to kiss her gently on her forehead.

Then another pain was upon her and she squeezed Will's hand as tightly as she could in order to ground herself as she pushed with all of her might. She pushed even as her throat closed and she found it impossible to breathe. She pushed so hard that she was sure the blood vessels around her eyes were popping and would leave her face swollen and red when this was all over. She pushed even though her body and her mind told her that she'd had enough and that she had to stop...to breathe...to rest. But she _couldn't_ stop. Not this time. So she pushed even harder.

"That's it! I see your baby's head. Good girl!" Matilda shouted. "One more after this ought to do it."

But Djaq didn't think she had it in her to make it through one more. So she continued pushing. Even after the contraction had eased. She pushed anyway. She felt the tender flesh of her lower region being stretched beyond belief and she squeezed her eyes shut until she saw stars, but still she pushed.

And she _pushed_. And she pushed some more. She just couldn't stop. This had to happen. Now. There was nothing else in the _world_ but _this_. It felt like it would never end and then, suddenly, she felt the child flop from her body. And she stopped pushing. And she was cold and empty for a second...or a minute...or maybe for years. She couldn't tell how much time was passing or even _if_ it was passing at all. Everything just seemed strange...different.

And then there was shouting. Happy and joyful shouting. Matilda and Will and even Djaq's own voice was in there somewhere. Crying and shouting and laughing all at once. Nothing was discernible save for the happiness that was _everywhere_.

"It's a boy!" Matilda announced, loudly enough for the others to hear her from outside. And Djaq heard _their_ voices too...raised in celebration. "Perfect and healthy."

"Give him to me," Djaq cried out, clawing at the air desperately. Needing so badly to _feel_ him...the warmth of him...he was too far away...he belonged with her.

Matilda must have cleaned him up and dealt with his cord in record time, because, before another second seemed to pass, he was in her arms...and everything was right.

She felt a swelling in her chest as she tried to control her pounding heart and all of the emotions warring and raging inside of her. Will was talking to her, she thought, but she couldn't manage to hear him or to understand. For this brief moment, there was only this. Her and her child. Her son.

Then she felt a chill at her side and realized that Will had slipped away. She heard him rustling about in one of the baskets she kept near their bed, but before she'd had time to question his absence, he was back and handing her something.

She turned to face him then...turning away—for the first time—from her son. "A date? Oh, for the baby. Yes of course." Bless him for remembering what she had told him about the birth rites of her people. She was in such a state at the moment that she would have likely forgotten completely. But Will always wanted to be certain that she honored her roots. He was truly wonderful that way.

She broke off a tiny piece of the date and rubbed it along the baby's gums. He immediately began to move his mouth in anticipation of a meal, making both of his parents laugh.

"Tell me what to say," Will said excitedly from beside her.

"What?"

"Tell me the words. The call to prayer. The _Adhan_, is it called?"

She was so touched that he wanted to perform this particular rite that she almost couldn't speak. The date was one thing. It did not have any overtly Islamic connotations. But the act of a father whispering the _Adhan_ into his new child's ear was distinctly Muslim and, although they had discussed it from time to time, she really hadn't expected that he would feel comfortable actually _doing_ it.

But as she gazed into his expectant face, she composed her emotions as best she could and recited for him the Arabic words that came as easily to her as breathing. She spoke as slowly and as clearly as she could, and paused while he repeated them near the baby's right ear.

Their child, for his part, did not stir. He did not whimper or squirm. He simply laid there in her arms, eyes closed but fully awake, and seemed to absorb all that was being said and done around him.

The pronunciation was difficult for Will but he actually did extremely well, all things considered. Once he had completed the recitation, Djaq translated the words into English for him so that he would understand exactly what he had just said to his son.

Will's eyes shone with pride and happiness and she knew that it must be mirrored in her _own_ face. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, wishing that she could somehow freeze that moment in time. That the world could remain perfect and joyful and that the feeling of peace within her heart could go on forever.

Then Will was kissing her face and she felt his tears on her cheek.

"I love you so _much_," he said, reaching out to stroke the baby's little face.

Djaq was unsure whether he was speaking to _her_ or to their child, but she realized that it did not matter...not really...and that he probably meant both of them but could not manage the words to properly convey all he felt at that moment.

She understood completely, as all she could manage was a nod as she glanced back and forth between the two of them. Her family. The two who were everything to her and whom she loved more than she would ever have imagined _possible_ even an hour ago.

"Now, you're gonna feel another bit of cramping soon," Matilda told her, after waiting to be sure she wasn't interrupting anything. "That's just the afterbirth, as you know. Just let me know when you feel it and you can go ahead and push it out."

Djaq didn't look up from her child's face. She merely nodded as, with her free hand, she fumbled with the ties on her top in an effort to free her breasts so that her child could eat.

"He may not be ready to suckle quite yet. The movement of his mouth is just a reflex," Matilda cautioned her. "Remember, he's been through quite an ordeal too. He may just want to rest."

But Djaq _knew_ that he would suckle. She couldn't explain _how_ she knew, she just did. She certainly hadn't become an expert mother in the space of five minutes, but all she knew was that, after months of she and her child sharing a body, holding him in her arms was simply not enough. She needed him to be closer and she knew that he needed it too.

Having finally loosened her ties, she pushed her top down beneath her left breast and shifted the baby until he seemed to be lined up properly. She took her breast fully in her hand, squeezed gently, and then brushed the tip of her nipple over his bottom lip just as she'd seen other new mothers do.

He began frantically moving his head from side to side until he'd latched on, and then let out an enormous sigh of relief as he began suckling away furiously.

The feeling was something that Djaq simply couldn't describe. She was sure that, as many times as she would repeat it in future, she would never be able to fully wrap her thoughts around how it made her _feel_. The closest she could come right then was to say that it filled her with a sense of purpose unknown to her before that moment.

Her breasts had always been an enormous source of inconvenience to her. They were a nuisance, plain and simple. As a young girl, they'd had to be bound up tightly as soon as they'd started to develop, which had severely restricted her freedom as she'd run around playing and taking part in other routine activities with her brother. It had seemed so unfair at the time that _she_ should have to deal with something so bothersome while _he_ did not.

And then, of course, while she'd been masquerading as a boy during those few years she'd been a soldier in her homeland, her breasts had been a constant threat. Always coming free of their bindings at the _worst_ possible moments, forcing her to wear loose and impractical clothing, acting as a _constant_ reminder that she was a fraud...an impostor...and that her very _life_ was dependent upon keeping their existence under wraps.

Even in the forest as a member of Robin's gang, her breasts were what had initially given away her gender. Oh how she'd cursed them that day! And later, she'd had to wear that uncomfortable bodice over top of her tunic in order to keep them in place while running about with the others. It had been embarrassing and had drawn attention to the fact that she was a woman, when all she'd really _wanted_ was to be one of the gang.

Only when she had become intimate with Will did she finally begin to see her breasts as anything other than an annoyance. Will had spent a great deal of time exploring them over the past several months and _she_ had derived a great deal of pleasure from the sensations such explorations had elicited in her.

But that was _nothing_ compared to the feelings stirred within her now as they finally served their purpose. They had existed all of this time, just lying in wait, in order to do what nature intended and Djaq was at once struck by the wonder and completeness of Allah's world.

Obviously thinking the same, Will whispered, "There you go, Daniel. It's all for you. Eat your fill." His voice was filled with the same awe that Djaq was feeling at beholding such a miracle.

"_Daniel_," she repeated, trying it out, as Will lovingly ran his finger along the light smattering of dark hair that covered the baby's head.

"That's what we chose for a boy, right? Do...did you want to call him something different?" he asked with a tinge of disappointment.

"Oh no! Of course Daniel is fine. It suits him, I think." And she looked down at the sweet little face of their son.

Daniel Scarlett.

His skin was not nearly as dark as hers, but he was darker than Will by far. He seemed to have Will's long face and his straight nose. But his eyes, which were open now and staring at her intently, were dark and wide. They were they eyes that she had looked into every day of her childhood. The eyes of her beloved lost brother. Probably identical to her own.

He seemed to be studying her even as she was studying _him_, and she wondered if he was searching _her_ face for some resemblance...some sign of familiarity. But of course he was not. She knew that. He probably could not even _see_ her properly yet. Still, he was so alert and so focused on her face that she couldn't be quite sure.

"Just _look_ at him, Djaq. Look what we _made_," Will said in a voice so filled with wonder and pride that it made her nearly want to cry.

"Yes. He is perfect, is he not?" She smiled at her husband.

"Just like _you_," he said, kissing her lightly on the lips before returning to being mesmerized by his son. "And look at the way he's looking at you. Do you think he knows you're his mother? He _must_ know."

"I do not know. But he will figure out who we are soon enough. He is a clever boy. I can tell. He will be _very_ intelligent. See? It is in his eyes," she explained.

"Hm. You know, it hasn't escaped my attention that he has _your_ eyes. So why am I not surprised to hear that's where you think his intelligence can be found," he teased her.

"Will Scarlett, are you suggesting that I am arrogant?"

"Oh _no_. Not you. Never," he laughed, leaning in again to kiss her cheek. "I was only agreeing that he's going to be very clever just like his mother."

"Well he is already beautiful just like his father."

"He _is_ beautiful, isn't he?" he said in voice full of reverence.

"Ah. Now which of us is arrogant?"

"That's not what I meant. I meant—"

"I know, silly. I was only teasing you," she said.

Then there was silence, as the two of them were content to watch their son enjoying his first meal. And enjoy it he _did_. He suckled so furiously that Djaq wondered for a moment if he would suck her completely dry. But then he seemed to have reached his limit as his eyes slowly lowered and he allowed her nipple to slip from his mouth as he fell into an easy sleep.

Just then there was little a twinge in her lower abdomen. It was not very painful—not nearly as excruciating as the pains of labor had been—but it was distinct and definite and she knew that it must be her afterbirth.

"I feel something. It is the afterbirth, I think. Should I push now, then?" She asked Matilda, who'd been washing up and tidying some of the mess left by the delivery.

"Alright, go ahead," she said, settling herself once again between Djaq's legs at the end of the birthing chair. "Sometimes feeding the baby helps matters along a bit."

Djaq gave one big push, never releasing Daniel from her arms, and Matilda removed the afterbirth and discarded it appropriately. It was incredibly quick and easy when compared with the hours of pain she'd just experienced and Djaq was relieved to have the labor finally at an end.

"I think that I am ready to get cleaned up and move to the bed," she announced. "Then we should check the baby over thoroughly. Make certain that he has all of his parts," she added in Will's direction.

"I told you he was whole and perfect. Do you think I don't know what parts a newborn babe is suppose to have after all these years of birthing, girl?" Matilda asked her impatiently.

"I am certain that you do," Djaq answered, chuckling. "I just want to see all of him for myself, thank you very much."

She and Matilda had a friendly habit of verbally sparring with one another from time to time. Both women were stubborn and sharp-tongued and neither of them ever hesitated to say what was on her mind. Because of that they had developed a healthy respect for each other and got on quite well together.

"Alright then. Give the child to your husband and we'll get you cleaned up," she ordered.

But Djaq felt a sudden panic at handing him over. It was foolish, she knew. Will was his father and he would protect Daniel with his own life a thousand times over. Besides, he must be be so anxious to hold his son. He probably hadn't wanted to interrupt her initial bonding with him and he couldn't have taken him while he'd been feeding, but now he must surely be dying for the chance to take his son in his arms for the first time.

But she just couldn't let him go.

She knew that she should. That she _had_ to. She was being ridiculous, of course. But it was so very _hard_. He had been in her body for his whole existence, and just having him out in the cold and unfamiliar world was frightening enough, but having him out of her grasp seemed the most torturous thing _imaginable_ at that moment.

"It's alright. I'll be careful, I promise," Will said gently, seeing her hesitation.

She realized that he must think that she didn't trust him with their son. He must have assumed that, perhaps because he was a man, she would think he wouldn't know what to do or wouldn't use appropriate care. Nothing could be further from the truth, of course, so she gathered every ounce of courage she possessed, swallowed past the lump in her throat, and shakily handed her son over into his father's eager arms.

She waited for a second, but everything was fine. The earth did not seem to cease its turning, the sky did not suddenly fill with fire, and the child did not even wake from his peaceful slumber. She was not certain what she had _expected_ to happen, but she finally breathed a sigh of relief as it became clear that all was well.

And when Djaq took in the perfect sight of Will holding Daniel with confidence and yet so much tender care, it suddenly felt as if her heart would burst.

"There. You see?" Matilda smirked, shaking her head, and Djaq was sure she heard the woman mutter '_new mothers_' under her breath as she prepared a rag in order to help Djaq wash.

_**Locksley Village, Daniel's Birthday, Late Autumn, 1208**_

Daniel looked down into the nearly empty pail and sighed.

"Come _on_, Berta," he coaxed the reluctant animal. But he knew that it was not the goat's fault that she seemed unwilling to be milked to her full capacity this morning. She was obviously sensing Daniel's tension and impatience. So he released her teat and allowed her to get comfortable once again while he did his best to clear his mind before resuming.

There was just so much going on inside of him. Particularly today. His decision about Acre. His anticipation and excitement over seeing his family again this evening for his birthday celebration—it had been so _long_ since they'd all been together in one place.

And then of course there was Mary. It seemed that she was never far from his mind these days.

Mary was about a year older than Daniel and had been one of his best friends for as long as he could remember. Even long before he and his family had moved out of the forest.

She and her family were the next door neighbors of Emma, a friend of Daniel's mother and the woman with whom his parents had always left him on the occasions the whole gang had been needed for some mission or plan back when they were all still a part of Uncle Robin's gang. Umm had once saved Emma's life—forming a bond between the two women—and Daniel's parents had felt secure enough to entrust her with his care.

Emma's son, Bartholomew—or Bart, as he was often known—was Daniel's age and the two had practically grown up together. Mary, being just a bit older and inclined towards the same sorts of games and activities as the boys were, had almost always been a part of their playtime.

Daniel had other friends too, of course, but Mary and Bart were different.

They never asked dumb questions about his religious beliefs the way that other kids sometimes did. Daniel didn't really object to people being curious—they were _bound_ to be—but sometimes their questions could get downright rude.

But Mary and Bart never acted like it was weird that Daniel had two faiths. They had sometimes asked him about how things were done and why, but they always knew when to give it a rest too.

They also understood how hard it was for Daniel sometimes because of his parents and his uncles.

Everybody _knew_ them and _loved_ them and just seemed to feel as if Uncle Robin, Daniel's parents, and the others just sort of _belonged_ to them in a way. Like they were somehow the property of Locksley, or Nottingham, or even all of _England_, instead of just being regular people.

Folks were always telling Daniel how lucky he was. And how great 'Robin and His Merry Men' were and how much they meant to Nottingham and to England. They were always asking him questions and telling him stories about the 'good old days'. It was as if they felt like they had to clue Daniel in on who his family was and what kind of people they were.

It was frustrating at times because he could never seem to make them understand that the legends and the songs were only a small _part_ of who they were and what they were all about. And Daniel _knew_ that he was lucky. Luckier than most. But not for the reasons most people seemed to think.

He was lucky because he'd always been so loved and so happy that he hadn't even been _aware_ of the constant danger his family must have faced when he was just a boy. His parents and his uncles and Auntie Marian had always managed to make him feel safe and free...like the world was one big playground that existed solely for his amusement. And now that he understood so much more of what had been going on at that time, he knew just how lucky he _was_ to have people in his life who loved him that much.

But most people would never understand that. Daniel's father had told him once that people sometimes needed to believe in something bigger than themselves and so they tried to turn ordinary men and women into heroes. But Dad always said that _anyone_ could be a hero...all you had to do was act on what you believed was right. That was all it really took.

But most people didn't care about that. They just wanted the world to know that they were laying claim to Robin Hood's legendary band of outlaws. The former gang and its members were Nottingham's prize, and that was all that seemed to matter sometimes.

But Mary and Bart _never_ acted that way. They accepted Daniel—and his family—for who and what they were...and were not. And they never acted like it was strange that Daniel's 'family' included the famous Robin Hood, Maid Marian, Much, Little John and Allan A Dale. In fact, they hardly mentioned it at all. So spending time with them was sometimes the only time that Daniel felt like he could breathe or be himself outside of his family.

Bart's father had died in the same war that had taken the lives of Umm's father and brother. That fact alone should have made any friendship between the two boys awkward at best. But things like Holy Wars and battling kings were nothing when compared with the days of playing and laughter that the boys had grown up sharing. They had always been good friends and they both knew that they simply always would be.

And then there was Mary.

She was...well, she was just _Mary_. That was all. There was no better way to describe her.

She wasn't like most girls. Or even most _boys_. She liked to run and fish and skip stones and she couldn't have cared _less_ about getting her dress dirty or her hair full of twigs and leaves. She was funny and always up for some sort of prank or adventure.

Nothing was too daring or too outlandish for her either.

She often shocked the boys with her courage and even with her sharp tongue. She could sometimes be wild—even wilder than Daniel or Bart—but she was _always_ a lot of fun. She had four older brothers and she'd had to learn to be tough and to hold her ground at a very early age otherwise she would've been trampled by them or left out of the fun altogether. She wouldn't have tolerated either scenario, so she'd made herself just as rough and tumble as they were.

And she had the best sense of humor of anyone Daniel had _ever_ met. She constantly had the boys in fits of giggles.

It wasn't just that she always told the best jokes—which she _did_. It was also the way that she said things. She could be relating some incredibly unremarkable story or event with the straightest face you'd ever _seen_, but there would be this almost imperceptible twinkle in her eye that told you—if you knew her well enough—that she was about to say something so _outrageous_ that it would have you rolling on the ground laughing for an hour.

She just had this extraordinary _wit_...this sarcastic manner of speaking about things and people that seemed to paint the whole _world_ in a different light. She was quick and she was clever and she seemed to have the ability to know just what you were expecting her to say or do, and then she would turn around and do the exact opposite just to throw you off balance. She was wild and funny and full of spirit and life.

But she could be _serious_, too, when she had to be. There was nothing Daniel couldn't confide in her. Nothing she wouldn't understand.

But ever since Daniel and his family had returned from the Holy Land, things had changed. _She_ had changed.

Funny thing was, Daniel just couldn't figure out _how_.

She didn't _seem_ particularly different. She still walked the same...and talked the same. She'd been there when the Scarletts had first arrived back in Locksley and she'd been just as friendly and spirited as ever. She'd wanted to hear all about Daniel's trip and everything he'd seen and done and he'd _wanted_ to tell her...he really had. But every time he looked at her he just felt..._strange_.

_She_ was strange. She acted like the same person and, for the most part, she still looked the same...but something was just..._different_.

Sure, her hair was a bit longer and seemed to shine a bit more in the sunlight. And maybe, if Daniel weren't mistaken, her eyes were a deeper blue than he remembered. And he'd started to wonder if her bottom and her bosom hadn't perhaps grown a bit bigger and a tad rounder in his absence. But, the truth was, that he'd really never _noticed_ such things about her before so he really couldn't be sure.

All he knew was that when the three of them were together—Daniel, Mary and Bart—things were mostly as they used to be. They joked, they laughed, they talked. Daniel was able to slip right back into his place with them and everything seemed right. And when it was only Daniel and Bart, Daniel could detect no differences to speak of either.

But whenever Daniel found himself alone with Mary, his brain just seemed to shut down and all he could manage to do was either stare at her like a complete idiot, or expend every ounce of energy and sense he had trying _not_ to stare at her like a complete idiot. It was embarrassing and stupid and it made Daniel feel like a ridiculous child.

He wasn't a fool. He knew perfectly well that his new feelings and behavior where she was concerned were the symptoms of some sort of romantic attachment. That much was obvious. What he couldn't quite fathom was _why_.

Why _her_? Why _now_? He'd never considered her in that light before. She was a friend. Nothing more. Sure, she was one of the most important people in his life and always had been, but that just made this all so much more _complicated_.

He'd certainly found himself infatuated with different girls from time to time. Nottingham was full of pretty girls and Daniel had never been shy about appreciating them. But Mary had never struck him as someone to be thought of in that way. She just...she was different than all the others. And he was pretty sure that she only thought of _him_ as a _friend_ anyway. So it was all rather maddening, to say the least.

And he really couldn't even begin to allow himself to contemplate the _possibilities_ of what it all meant because he had the whole issue of Acre and studying medicine hanging over his head.

How could he approach Mary and tell her what he'd been thinking...why he'd been acting the way he had...while there was every chance that he would have to turn around and leave her at some point in the very near future? That he would not only have to _leave_ her, but that he wouldn't be able to return for _years_. Long enough for her to marry someone else and start a family.

She was a year older than Daniel as it was, and he could hardly expect her to sit around and wait while her life and prospects passed her by as he pursued a dream that wasn't even his own. No. He wouldn't dare ask that of her. Even if she _was_ one day able to return his feelings—which was probably unlikely at any rate—she would surely want a man who was actually _around_.

It was all hopeless and Daniel just couldn't think about it anymore. But he couldn't manage to _stop_ thinking about it either. So he avoided being alone with her. Just like he was doing with his mother. And he hated himself for being such a coward.

_**Outlaw Camp, Sherwood Forest, Daniel's Birth Day, Late Autumn, 1194**_

It had taken all of Will's and Matilda's powers of persuasion, but they had finally managed to convince Djaq that she needed her rest and that the baby would be fine without her for a bit. She had fought them long and hard, insisting that she was fine and that she wanted to hold her child for a while longer, but she had finally—albeit grudgingly—given in to the inevitable and allowed sleep to overtake her.

Will was glad. She had been through so much and he knew how absolutely exhausted she must be. So now he sat, with the baby in his arms and the rest of gang seated with him around the fire. Allan had escorted Matilda home some time ago and had since returned, and Marian was still at the camp.

Will stared down in awe at the perfect little bundle in his arms. Wide brown eyes stared back at him, blinking. The baby seemed fascinated, studying his face. Watching, as if he expected Will to do something spectacularly entertaining at any moment and wanted to be certain not to miss it. Will couldn't help but smile.

Try as he may, he still found himself not quite able to fully believe it. He had a _son_. He was a _father_. It wasn't as if he hadn't been expecting this all along, of course. Obviously, come the end of Djaq's pregnancy, there would be a child to love and to care for. He'd known that. But he simply hadn't been prepared for the way that it would make him _feel_.

He was suddenly a part of things in a way he'd never thought about before. He was now a part of the past and of the future and he was struck by the thought that life—in its mystery and wisdom—seemed as if it almost folded over onto itself in an effort to bring the past _forward_.

For in his son's face, Will could see traces of every single person he had ever loved.

There was Djaq of course. The baby had her eyes and her coloring. But Will could also see his own mother and father when he looked at his son. Lukey too. And there were even hints of his grandparents—whom he barely remembered—mingled in there as well. He could just make them out when Daniel knitted his brows or moved his head a certain way.

It was _amazing_.

And he knew that Djaq's own family must be mixed in there somewhere too. It was just all so _miraculous_. So indescribable. That this one tiny infant could be the link that brought them all together. That this one child carried them all forward into the world and secured for them a place in it long after they were gone.

All of these people were bound up in this new life and loving _him_ meant loving and honoring _them _as well.

And it was so much more than Will's heart had been prepared for. He'd expected to love his child. In fact, he'd loved him ever since he'd learned of his existence and he'd been impatiently waiting for the day he could finally take him in his arms for the first time. But he hadn't anticipated all the emotions that would be stirred up inside of him at the sight of his son.

"I just don't think it's _fair_. That's all," Much grumbled from across the fire.

"Aye. So you've said," John rolled his eyes.

"Yeah. Over and over. We get it already," Allan added.

"Well I know. But it's just that—"

"Seriously, Much. Just give it a rest, would you?" Robin cut him off impatiently. "Besides, you're aggravating Daniel. And I think he wants to come back over here with his Uncle Robin. Is that right, Daniel? Is that what you want?" And he reached over and held his arms out in Will's direction.

Will hesitated for only a second before carefully handing the baby to Robin. It wasn't that Will didn't trust Robin to hold the baby. In fact, Robin had already proven himself more than capable with him. He had held him several times already and seemed perfectly comfortable with Daniel in his arms.

No, the _problem_ was that each and every time Will got his son back into his own arms, someone else would decide they wanted another go at holding him. They were all having a ball getting to know the baby and Will was glad, but it would have been nice to have Daniel all to himself for more than two minutes at a time.

He wondered how quickly the gang's fascination with their newest member would falter once he started crying or needed his wrappings changed. But Daniel seemed to be enjoying the attention for now. Or, at the very least, he was tolerating it.

"Look at that. You've got nice long fingers. That's gonna make for greater precision when drawing a bowstring. And faster release too," Robin informed Daniel as if he assumed the baby would be quite pleased with this news. "You're gonna be quite the archer."

Marian rolled her eyes. "I really must be on my way, but I would like to hold him one last time before I go if I may," she said, reaching over and taking the baby from Robin's arms.

"Be careful, Marian," Robin cautioned her. "Be sure to hold his head up a bit."

Marian rolled her eyes again. "For the last time, Robin, it's not as if I've never held an infant before."

"Yeah, but you gotta admit you were pretty panicked the first time Will handed him to you," Allan laughed. "You shoulda seen your face. Like you thought he'd turn into a snake any minute and bite you."

"I did no such thing," she responded defensively. "I just didn't want to drop him is all."

"You look good with a baby in your arms," Robin said, smiling at the sight.

"Oh no. Don't you get any crazy ideas, Robin."

"Crazy ideas? Me?"

"C'mon now. You see how easy it is. Djaq did it," Allan told her. "You could too."

"_Easy_?" Will demanded in exasperation.

"Well..._yeah_," Allan shrugged.

"I'd like to see _you_ try it," John challenged.

"Anyway," Allan said, ignoring the others and turning back to Marian who still held the baby. "You outta move back out here to the forest and then the two of you can have a few of your own. Then Daniel can have playmates."

"That's...that's...she can't do _that_!" Much exclaimed.

"I meant that she and Robs could get married first, you old biddy," Allan amended.

"Oh. Well...I suppose that could work." Much seemed to think it over for a second or two. "Yes. Why not? If Djaq and Will can do it, why not Robin and Marian? Okay. I'm on board. When do we start?"

The others burst into laughter and Much—realizing what he'd said—blushed profusely.

"Not bein' funny, mate, but I don't think they need your help for this," Allan nudged him with an elbow.

"That's not what I meant and you know it!"

"I wouldn't be too sure. You're always sticking your nose where it doesn't belong," John ribbed him further.

"Yeah, but it's not his nose that'd be gettin' in the way this time, is it?" Allan couldn't resist.

Marian turned her face to hide her crimson cheeks and seemed to be trying her level best to ignore the men while Robin laughed heartily at her discomfort.

"Allan! Don't say things like that in front of the baby!" Will chided him.

"What? He can't understand. Anyway, he's gotta learn the facts of life _some_time and who better to teach him than his Uncle Allan?"

"Why don't just wait and corrupt your own kids," Will said with a good-natured roll of his eyes.

"Oh no. Not me, mate. I'm not the fatherly type."

"What? Don't you _want_ a family someday?" Much asked as if had never occurred to him that any man wouldn't.

"Now what would _I_ do with a family, Much?" Allan asked.

"Well not _now_. But _some_day. Right? When the king returns?" Will asked.

"Uh-uh. Nope. Not me. Kids are okay when someone else is raising `em, I suppose. Like Daniel here. But—" Allan stopped and looked at John. "Sorry. I didn't mean..."

Will couldn't _believe_ Allan could be so insensitive. While he was sure that nothing had been meant by the comment, they all knew how difficult it had been for John knowing that his own son was being raised by another man. He had come back from checking up on Alice and Little Little John not even a week ago and hadn't said much about the experience other than to say that he'd stayed out of sight while watching them and that they were happy and well cared-for.

He said that their happiness and safety were all he wanted, but the gang all knew that it must have cost him a big part of himself to admit that another man was able to look after them in a way that he _couldn't_. So Allan's comment was ill-timed, to say the least.

"Children are a blessing," John answered simply.

"Yeah, I know," Allan responded, now rather sheepishly. "I just meant that _I_ wouldn't be very good at fatherhood. That's all. You know me. I'd probably lose my kids in a bet or something." He tried to laugh it off, but his discomfort was clear.

"Children are a _blessing_," John repeated pointedly. And then to Will specifically he said, "Don't you ever forget that. You cherish this time, for you'll never get it back."

Will nodded solemnly. "I will."

"John's right, Marian." Robin said, leaning closer to her and the baby. "Children are a blessing and we should cherish the time we have. You've proven that you can live out here with us, and it would only be until the king returned anyway. What'd you say?"

"What I _say_ is that I would never leave my father, as you well know. Besides, if my time out here with all of you taught me _anything_, it was that I greatly rely on the comforts of a civilized life. So let us put all this talk of marriage and children aside until the king has indeed returned and you are fully pardoned."

"But, Marian—"

"Now I really must be off," she said, attempting to hand the child back to his father, only to have him intercepted by John. "And if you promise to drop this topic completely, I will let you escort me to the edge of the forest."

"I make no promises, Marian," Robin said with a grin as the two of them readied to depart and Marian took a final wistful look around the camp before exiting.

Will looked across the fire to where John held Daniel. It was a strange sight. For such a big and burly man, John was incredibly gentle with him. He cradled him carefully and tugged his blankets around him snuggly to be certain that he was nice and warm. Daniel fidgeted a little in order to get comfortable, but then seemed to settle in, trusting in the security of the hands that held him. He even reached a tiny fist up as if to examine John's scruffy beard, but then seemed to think better of it and withdrew it almost immediately, making John chuckle softly.

Djaq had warned Will months ago that they must not be offended if John seemed disinterested in the baby once it was born. She'd said that they had to be careful not to place any pressure on him to hold or interact with him either.

Will knew that she'd been afraid that having a baby around would make things even harder for John, but Will had secretly hoped that the opposite might be true. That perhaps the baby—while never replacing his own child—would give John that sense of peace that always seemed just beyond him. He smiled now to see that he'd been right.

"I don't see how you can not want children someday! What about this Rebecca that you're always on about?" Much—never knowing when to let a subject rest—demanded of Allan. "Does she not want marriage and a family someday? Perhaps she'd do better to find it elsewhere."

"Hey! Never you mind about her. I'd marry her if I could. I _would_. And someday I probably will. But kids are a different story."

"Yes but once you get married, children are inevitable, aren't they?" Much said rather than asked.

"`Course not. There's lots a ways to keep it from happening," Allan answered with a shrug and Will hoped that he would _not_ get into specifics with Much. Luckily, he left it at that.

"Well, that's fine for _you_, I suppose. But I plan to find Eve as soon as the king comes home. We're going to be married right away and move into Bonchurch together. Oh how happy we'll be. Me and Eve and all the children we can manage."

"How can you be sure you'll find her so quickly? You said you don't even know where she's gone," Will asked.

"Well I...I don't _need_ to know, do I? Because...because she'll hear that the king has returned and she'll probably come and find _me_. Yeah. I bet she'd do just _that_. She's a resourceful woman, my Eve. She'll probably have a plan in place just waiting for the day the king comes home. Then we can be married and start our lives together. I can just see it now. A house full of warm beds, good food and all of our fair-haired children running about. I bet the girls will all be sweet and gentle little flowers just like their mother."

From what Will had heard about Eve, she was neither gentle _nor_ particularly sweet and it always amused the gang when Much spoke of her that way. Will was never sure if Much was just remembering her as he wanted her to be or if he had perhaps seen a special side to her than she rarely showed to others. Either way, Will was certain that she was a good woman and would take good care of him.

Much deserved that, probably more than anyone else and Will was glad that he had found someone who understood him and could make him happy. Perhaps she would even act as a sort of buffer from the baseness and cruelty of the world that at times seemed to baffle the man.

"And the boys?" Allan asked. "Chatty little thorns in my side just like their father?"

"Oh shut _up_, Allan," Much huffed. "I'm going to go and check on Djaq. See if she needs anything. I bet she's hungry."

"No, Much. Just let her sleep. She'll eat when she wakes up," Will told him.

"Fine, I won't wake her. I'll just peek in to see if she's alright."

"No. Please. Just leave her be. She's exhausted and she needs her rest," Will said more firmly.

"But that's not _fair_!" Much whined.

"Aye, so you keep saying," John said.

"Well it's not. Will always acts like Djaq just belongs to him. Well she _doesn't_. She belongs to all of us."

"Oh Lord. Not this again," John grumbled.

"It's true," Much continued. "All I want is to go back and check on her. She might _need_ something. I promise not to wake her. But oh no. I can't because Will says not to. It's not _fair_."

"Fair or not, leave her _alone_," John ordered.

"Well...well I'm going anyway. What do you think about _that_? Hm?" And he started to get up.

Will made to stand up too but stopped when he saw Allan place a hand on Much's shoulder. "Much, mate, you're being ridiculous. He's not trying to _keep_ you from her, but you've already been back there _five times_ to check on her. And every time she's fine. You pull back her curtain, straighten her covers, and fluff her pillows. One of these times you're gonna wake her up. Is that what you want? Will's right. She's tired. Just let her be."

"Well I...I..._fine_," he huffed. "But then it's _my_ turn to hold the baby."

_**Locksley Village, Daniel's Birthday, Late Autumn, 1208**_

Once Daniel had completed his morning chores and assisted his father with putting the finishing touches on the cradle, the two of them set off to deliver it to Locksley Manor.

Auntie Marian was expecting a child very soon and Uncle Robin had ordered the cradle as a special surprise for her. Six years ago, when she had been expecting the first of the Locksleys' five children, Daniel's father had made a cradle for the child and presented it to them as a gift. He had done the same for Uncle Allan and Rebecca's first child that same year.

Dad's cradles were coveted and spoken of all _over_—not just in Nottingham—and it was something that he enjoyed making for special friends when the occasion arose. So all of Uncle Robin and Auntie Marian's children had slept in that first one when they were infants. But, sadly, when the Scarletts had returned from their trip to the Holy Land, they were informed that the youngest Locksley child had passed away in his sleep during the winter.

Daniel's mother had felt incredibly guilty over not being around to prevent it. She took her responsibilities as Locksley's physician very seriously and she took a special interest in the families of her fellow former outlaws. So she felt that she had let them down by being away just when she might have been needed. Of course, infants died in their sleep sometimes. It just happened. No one knew why and no one could have prevented it, but that didn't make it any easier to accept.

But Auntie Marian had—naturally—taken little Samuel's death very hard. According to Uncle Much, she'd refused to leave her bed for weeks and had seemed to lose interest in just about everything. Uncle Robin had been truly worried about her.

But, by the time that Daniel and his family had returned to Locksley, she'd seemed to be doing much better and was already expecting another child. Uncle Robin had thought that perhaps a fresh start with a brand new cradle might be in order for the new baby and so he'd commissioned Daniel and his father to make her one.

"Well if it isn't the birthday boy! Happy birthday, sweetheart," Auntie Marian said, giving Daniel a hug and kiss as they arrived. "I didn't expect to see you until this afternoon."

"Where is everybody?" Daniel asked. The Locksley house was usually bustling with activity.

"The children are out back playing. I needed a bit of a break. Rose is watching them. And your Uncle Robin is up—Is _that_ what I think it is?" she asked, noticing the cradle for the first time as they set it down.

"That depends on what you think it is," Daniel's father answered with a grin.

"Robin!" she called up the stairs. "Is this _your_ doing?"

"What's that, my love? If it's something brave and wonderful then I'm _sure_ that it was my doing, but if it's something you're unhappy with then it was probably Much," he answered as he descended the stairs grinning.

"I _heard_ that!" Uncle Much yelled from the kitchen.

"Hey! Birthday boy!" Uncle Robin said, shaking Daniel's hand and then pulling him into a hug. Then, noticing the cradle, he said, "Oh! I didn't expect it to be ready so soon. Do you like it?" he asked Auntie Marian.

"Yes, it's lovely. But now I'm confused. Do I owe a thank-you kiss to you or to Much?" she asked cheekily.

"No no! It was all _my_ doing," he told her, moving forward with a smile to claim the promised kiss. "I thought it might...make things a bit..._easier_."

"Thank you, Robin. And thank _you_ two. It's truly lovely. Oh my, these carvings are different, aren't they? So intricate. Is this something you learned in the east, Will?"

"Uh, well, actually...you have Daniel to thank for that part. He planned and carved the design all on his own this time," Dad answered, patting Daniel on the back.

"You are extremely talented, Daniel Scarlett. You take after your father." And as he and his dad both blushed and ducked their heads at her praise, she added with a smile, "in more ways than one I see."

"Don't be modest now," Uncle Robin admonished Daniel. "I've been telling your father this for years. False modesty is no better than arrogance, _I_ say. If you're good at something, then be proud of that and take proper credit. There's nothing wrong with that. You're a talented young man."

"He's right about one thing. You're very talented and you should be proud of that. But your Uncle Robin is _not_ the best one to give advice on modesty," Auntie Marian laughed.

"You can say _that_ again!" Uncle Much yelled from the kitchen.

"Much, what are you _doing_ back there?" Dad called.

"I'm working on the food for tonight's feast," he answered, coming out of the kitchen. "Happy birthday!"

"Thank you," Daniel answered as he was suddenly crushed by Uncle Much's exuberant hug.

"Are you excited about tonight? _I_ am. It'll be so nice to have everyone together again, won't it? And we'll all be back at the camp too. Just like the old days. Except that..well..._not _like the old days. I bet you can't wait. Is John bringing his grandchildren, do you think? I wonder if he'll bring all of them this time. There's gonna be a lot of people to feed. Luckily, I've prepared plenty," he rattled on, as usual.

"But why are you cooking _now_? I thought you were gonna roast something once we got out there," Dad asked. "Something simple."

"I wanted to get an early start. There'll be a lot of us this time and I want to make sure there's more than enough for everyone," he answered. "And something simple just won't do. No sir. Not for such a special occasion."

"What are you making?" Daniel asked.

"Roasted geese. I know it's your favorite," Uncle Much beamed.

"That's _your_ favorite, Uncle Much," Daniel laughed.

"Oh. Is it? Hm. I suppose it is." He appeared to be thinking. "What's _your_ favorite then?" he asked.

"He's teasing you, Daniel. He's making lamb because he knows it's your favorite," Auntie Marian explained. "In fact, he went around the market yesterday and ordered up every bit of it he could get his hands on because he was worried there wouldn't be enough and he's been in that kitchen since early this morning."

"Well that's the least I can do for our boy, isn't it?" Uncle Much responded with a shrug. "Oh, do me a favor would you? On your way home, would you go by my house? There's some meat pies and cakes cooling on the window sill in the kitchen. Would you take them back to your house with you so you lot can load them up and take them out to the forest later on when you go? I'll have all this meat and such to deal with."

"Yeah. Sure," Daniel answered as Uncle Much shuffled back to the kitchen.

"We'd better be off then," Dad said. "The A Dale brood will be pulling into Locksley any time now, causing a ruckus, and we oughta be there to greet them. And I expect John will be along soon too."

"Very well. Will we all head out to the forest together then?" Auntie Marian asked no one in particular. "I think we ought to take a cart for the very little ones. It's a long walk, after all. But in my condition, I'd rather walk. A cart ride would be too bumpy. I imagine Rebecca will feel the same way."

"You're right. A cart for the little ones would be best. The rest of us can walk. But we can still all go together. It'll give us all more time to catch up," Dad said. "Why don't we meet at our house about three hours before sunset?"

"Sounds good," Uncle Robin answered as Daniel and his father departed.

Daniel walked into Uncle Much's house a few moments later—Dad having continued on his way home—and marveled at the difference between _that_ house and the one he'd just left. Although Uncle Much's house was hardly more than a few steps from Locksley Manor's front door, it may as well have existed in another country. Where the manor house was a hub of activity with children, laughter, guests, and general liveliness, Uncle Much's home was small, dark and gloomy.

It was the epitome of solitude and loneliness. There was a bed in the corner, a small table, a hearth, and a small food preparation area. That was it. No comfortable seating arranged about the hearth for pleasant conversations after supper, no big bed large enough to share with anxious little ones frightened by the thunder and lightening on a stormy night, no scuff marks left on the furniture by rowdy children at play. It was at once obvious, to anyone entering, that _this_ house—as opposed to Locksley Manor or Daniel's _own_ home—sheltered no family between it's sturdy walls.

It was hardly a fitting abode for the Lord of Bonchurch.

But Uncle Much preferred to be near his friends and especially Uncle Robin. And, as far as Daniel could recall, he had never spent more than a few nights at his Bonchurch lodge for as long as he'd been its master. He still saw to it that everything ran smoothly and that his people were well-cared for, but he simply didn't want to live there.

At least not alone.

Daniel still remembered how, when they'd all moved out of the forest at last in order to settle in the village, and all of the newly-pardoned former outlaws had been so nervous about making such an adjustment after surviving so long on the fringes of society, Uncle Much had been the only one who'd been truly excited. The others were grateful for their change in fortune, of course, but they'd spent far too long living like hunted animals to be able to ease into a normal life so quickly.

Daniel had found their behavior so terribly odd at the time. His parents and the others had spoken to him about the changes that were taking place and told him how wonderful it would all be and he, for his part, had been overjoyed at the prospect of moving into the village and living nearer to his friends. But then, Daniel supposed, children are often so much more adaptable than adults. He was ashamed now whenever he remembered how he'd snickered over their strange behavior—seeing it as some grown-up quirk.

Like the times that Uncle Allan had instinctively pushed him between two stands and blocked him from sight whenever there had been any sort of loud noise or ruckus in the market place, and then tried to laugh it off as a game when Daniel would question him. Or the way that Uncle Robin had maintained the habit of wearing a hooded cloak regardless of the weather anytime he'd gone outside Locksley village. Or how Uncle John had always preferred using side streets or back alleys to main roads and crowded squares and had avoided going into town at nearly all costs.

And of course, the way that Daniel's own parents had automatically pulled up their hoods and reached for the weapon at their side—the weapons they no longer carried—anytime someone called their name or approached them on the street. Or the way the faintest creak of a floorboard would start their eyes darting about for a place to hide before they would catch themselves and laugh at their silliness.

And how, for at least the entire first year they'd lived in the village, Daniel was certain that his parents had never once slept through a whole night together. One or the other of them was always up, seated at the window or just off to the side of the back door, with a weapon in hand. All night, every night. "Keeping watch" they'd called it.

_Just in case_.

Daniel had rolled his eyes at their nervous over-protectiveness back then. But looking back now, he realized just how naïve he'd been. And just how difficult that time must have been for them. All of them.

Except Uncle Much.

He was the only one—besides Daniel, of course—who'd slipped right into village life with nary a care. He'd walked about Nottingham with a song on his lips and a spring in his step back then and had cheerily greeted each and every person he'd come into contact with each and every day. He'd been recently knighted and had taken possession of Bonchurch—both gifts from Uncle Robin for years of friendship and faithful service—and he'd acted as if he were on top of the world. The only thing left for him to do, he'd explained, was to locate Eve and then they could settle down as Lord and Lady of the manor and start their new lives. Together.

But she never came.

And—despite all of his efforts—he'd never managed to find her. He'd tried his best and had even hired people to extend the search all over England. He'd offered rewards for any information that anyone could provide—something that had upset Umm very much at the time, Daniel remembered. Umm had been afraid that people would take advantage of Uncle Much's trusting nature and bring him false information in order to secure the reward. And they had. Over and over again. But he'd never given up.

Months and then years had gone by and—although Uncle Much's smile would sometimes falter and the sparkle in his eyes would dim from time to time when he spoke of her—he'd always maintained that he'd find her one day. He'd refused to move into Bonchurch until they were wed—insisting that it just wouldn't be the same without Eve there—and so he'd settled in Locksley in a little temporary home on the outer edge of the manor house. The home he still occupied today—although he spent the bulk of his time at Locksley Manor.

Daniel had never met this Eve, but he'd heard quite a lot about her from Uncle Much—who'd spoken of her almost constantly back then—and also from the others—who spoke in hushed tones when he wasn't around. But Daniel was certain that she must be an extraordinary woman to be able to hold such a place in his uncle's heart even after all this time.

It was not as if Uncle Much hadn't had other prospects. He was a man of property, after all—not to mention one of Robin Hood's famous merry men—and wealthy lords were always parading their daughters in front of him hoping to entice him into proposing marriage. Everybody—including Daniel's own parents and Uncle Robin—was certain that, given enough time, he would move on and do just that.

But Daniel suspected differently.

He still recalled the way that Uncle Much had spoken about her—even way back when they'd all lived in the forest and Daniel had kept him company while he'd prepared supper or mended Uncle Robin's socks. His eyes had lit up in the same way that Dad's did every time he looked at Umm. Every single time. Like she was his whole world and no other woman could compare with her.

And though Daniel was, admittedly, not terribly inclined toward romantic notions, he doubted whether a man could ever fall _out_ of a love that deep.

Presently, he pulled back the curtains in order to let in some much-needed light and fished around Uncle Much's pantry until he found a crate to put the pies and cakes in. Balancing the now-full crate in his hands, he took a final, sad look around before heading out the front door—using a foot to pull the door shut as he backed out.

And right into Mary.

"Sorry, I—" he started, whirling around to face her, then stopped and stared stupidly as he took in the rosiness in her cheeks from the cool autumn weather.

"What the hell is the matter with you?" she demanded, her hands on her hips and her face inches from his.

Okay, so maybe it _wasn't_ just the weather making her face flush. Clearly, she was angry. He tried to back away from her but found himself up against the closed door.

"I...uh...What d'you mean?" he stammered nervously.

"What do I _mean_? You know perfectly well what I mean! You've been acting like a complete idiot ever since you got back! At first I figured you just had to get back into the swing of things. Fine. Then, I thought that maybe you'd changed over there what with all of the differences and everything and that maybe you just didn't have anything in common with us anymore. Okay. I guess I might be able to understand that. Things happen, people change." She exhaled in a long huff.

"What are you—" Daniel began but was interrupted as she continued in a louder voice.

"But _now_ I find out that Bart is going to your party tonight! The party that—according to you—your parents have insisted is only for family. _Family_! Yet _Bart's_ invited. So what does that make _me_? Huh?"

"I...I uh..."

"I'll _tell_ you what it makes me? It makes me _mad_! That's what! For _weeks_ now I've been trying to figure out what's wrong with you, Daniel. To figure out what's _changed_ between us," she said in an increasingly desperate voice. "And now I think I finally get it."

All of a sudden her lips were on his and he had no time to react or even any idea of how _to_ react. The kiss, rather than being sweet like a first kiss probably _ought_ to be, was forceful and searching and he wasn't sure how he was meant to respond.

He'd never kissed a girl before and he'd certainly never been kissed _by_ one. And even if he _had_ he didn't think it would have prepared him for _this_. He was thankful that at least he still held the crate which prevented him from having to guess where to put his hands. Or where _not_ to put them.

The kiss seemed to last a long time and Daniel realized after a moment that his eyes were closed and that he wasn't kissing her back. But by the time he'd gathered his wits enough to _attempt_ it, it was over. It had ended just as abruptly as it had begun.

He opened his eyes to find her glaring at him with her arms folded across her chest and a self-satisfied smirk across her face.

"I...I...what was...I...that...you...why..." He couldn't seem to force anything more coherent out of his mouth.

"My my. You're quite the smooth talker there, Daniel Scarlett," she said wryly.

"You kissed me," he finally said. Stupidly.

"And so observant too," she teased as her smirk widened and became a huge grin. And Daniel realized that _he_ was grinning too. Like an idiot. "I like you, Daniel. A lot. And you like me."

He nodded his agreement, trying to recall again why he'd been avoiding her...avoiding _this_...all this time.

"Then _why_?" she asked, dropping her arms to her sides, her courage visibly faltering for the first time. "Why shut me _out_? Am I not..._sophisticated_ enough for the likes of you? Because I don't read books and speak other languages and such? Because I'm not like the girls you met over _there_? Is that it?"

"_No_! No, Mary. That's not it at all," he insisted, placing the crate on the ground beside the door and reaching for her hand instinctively—the first easy and natural contact between them in a long long time. "I...I think you're amazing. I really do. I've just been so confused about so many things since I got back. And I haven't wanted to bother you with...with my feelings about you until I'd figured out some other stuff. _Not_ about _you_, just..._other_ stuff. That's all. I'm so sorry."

And slowly and carefully he leaned in to kiss her. She kissed him back and this time it wasn't forceful or searching, but soft and yielding. And suddenly everything else in Daniel's life slipped right into perspective. Everything suddenly just _fit_ and he knew what he needed to do.

The kiss was over far too soon for his liking but he remembered—for the first time—that they were out in the open where anyone could see them. He wouldn't want anyone to get it in their head to carry tales about Mary, so he stepped back from her a little and released her hand.

"I know it's kind of late notice, but um...would you like to come out to the forest with us tonight?" he asked tentatively as he retrieved the crate from the ground near his feet—more to distract himself than anything else.

She waved her hand at him somewhat dismissively. "I was gonna go anyway whether you asked me or not," she announced stubbornly. "Since when do I let anyone keep me out of the fun?"

_That_ made him laugh because truer words were probably never spoken.

"That's my girl," he said offhandedly—as it was the sort of thing he often said to her in admiration whenever she was particularly blunt or pushy—without thinking of the new implications.

"I _am_, you know," she whispered to him after a moment in a voice that was almost shy in its contrast to her earlier actions.

Daniel smiled and placed a quick kiss on one of her rosy cheeks. "I'll come get you when we're ready to go. Okay?"

"Don't be late," she ordered with a smile as they parted—with Daniel heading toward his house and Mary toward hers.

As he made his way through the village on his way home—his mind a buzz of new thoughts and plans—he found a renewed comfort in the people he passed along the way. The folks going about the hustle and bustle of everyday village life. He thought about how lucky they were—himself included—to live in Locksley. It was a happy and productive village. In fact, all of Nottingham was prosperous—one of the most prosperous shires around.

Of course, it hadn't _always_ been that way.

Daniel knew that there had been a time, in the not too distant past, when things in Nottingham—and Locksley in particular—were dire indeed. When families starved and cruel men ruled. When expressing dissatisfaction was tantamount to asking for death and just trying to survive often ended in a lashing, a spell in the dungeons or even the loss of a hand.

Thus had been the fate of Daniel's own grandfather—the kind and brave man whose name he carried—as well as many others. There had been no one to protect them back then, with Uncle Robin away fighting in the war. No one to stand up for them or encourage them to stand up for _themselves_.

Daniel had grown up hearing the stories of Uncle Robin's return to his beloved home, only to find that nothing was as he'd left it. That a cruel man and his 'lapdog'–as Uncle Robin referred to the man—had taken over. Then the day had come—the day which now lived on in song and story—when Uncle Robin had had to make a choice. He had done the only thing he _could_ do, according to his own recounting of the tale, and had saved the lives of Dad, Uncle Luke, Uncle Allan, and a young man named Benedict. Thereby giving up all rights to his freedom and his lands and having to live outside the law as a hunted man.

But he hadn't given up. He'd recruited a few like-minded, brave souls and had started a crusade of his own. One that he'd hoped would feed people and keep them safe...give them hope...until the King returned to make matters right.

As it happened, the King finally _had_ returned shortly after Daniel's birth. At last the war was over. Peace had been declared and the time for healing could begin. And, although Daniel was far too young to have any memories of that time, he knew from all that he'd heard that the outlaws had rejoiced that their time in exile had at long last come to an end.

They had celebrated and feasted and made all sorts of plans. The King was their savior and his return meant that all wrongs would be righted and that the good men and women who had fought the good fight in his absence and in his name would be rewarded with pardons and lands and titles galore.

Or so Uncle Robin had always told them. And so he had believed.

But the reality had turned out to be something very different. When Uncle Robin had ridden out to meet the King, anticipating a reception befitting—if nothing else—their former association when Uncle Robin had served him faithfully in the war, he had found himself barred from the King's presence.

He was an outlaw, after all—England's most famous one, at that—and there were very few who were unaware of the lengths to which he would go in order to tell his version of recent events to the King. A King who had been apprised of his lawless activities and warned that he might try something. In fact, Uncle Robin had barely escaped being caught and executed by the King's own guards—some of them men Uncle Robin had once served with.

He'd returned to Nottingham angry and nearly defeated. He'd felt betrayed, naturally, but also concerned and fearful over the fates of his lads. Men who had trusted him and believed what he'd promised. Men who—despite a bleak existence and deeply-felt losses—had placed their faith in their leader and fought for his King.

Uncle Robin had then made several more attempts to get a message to the King, but had been thwarted at every turn.

But finally, Auntie Marian's father—being a titled man and the former Sheriff of Nottingham—had succeeded in securing a meeting with King Richard. He'd been made to wait several weeks at the King's court before being granted an audience, however, and even then he'd had to speak his piece in front of dozens of other men—many of them known supporters of the King's brother. But he had spoken without fear of reprisals—having had complete confidence in the protection and good judgment of his King.

He'd told of the hardships in Nottingham, of the deaths and imprisonments with little or no foundation in the law. He'd told of the plotting and scheming by the then-Sheriff and others to remove the King from the throne by any means necessary and to place his brother, John, upon it in his place.

And he'd told of the brave and selfless actions of Robin Hood and his men. Of how they fought _for_ the King—in his name and for his people, fed the poor, and worked for the restoration of justice.

The king had listened to all that he was told and then Sir Edward was thanked for his 'evidence' and told to return to Knighton. And so he had—confused and worried, but optimistic. And weeks passed. And then weeks became months.

And nothing was done. Then at last, the news had got around that the King had forgiven his brother—for everything—and that he had left him in charge once again as he'd set off on another foreign campaign.

Uncle Robin had taken the news quite hard, naturally. As much as he'd been fighting for the people and for justice, he'd also been fighting for his king. And his king had not only abandoned him, but had left the very men in charge who had made such a mess of things in the first place.

The bad Sheriff, Vaisey, and the false Lord of Locksley—a man named Gisbourne—were not only left in their positions, but they now had no reason to fear reprisals when the King returned. For it was fairly well understood that the King had no intention of setting foot on English soil again. Ever.

Things only got worse from that moment on.

If possible, life became even _more_ perilous for the outlaws. And they'd had no reason to believe that things would ever get any better. They were hunted relentlessly, as always. But many of the common people had even turned against them _and_ their efforts during that time after realizing that Uncle Robin was no longer able to guarantee any sort of happy future for Nottingham. Traps were set for them in the most unlikely of places and good men and women—those whom they'd once considered friends—had given in to temptation and accepted rewards for information on their whereabouts and activities.

Daniel had been aware of none of it, however. He had been shielded from the fear and despair by the people who loved him most and he still marveled—to this very day—at the lengths they must have gone to in order to make him feel safe and content. Even in the worst of circumstances.

But the one who'd fared worst of all was Sir Edward. He and Auntie Marian were now seen as open opponents of the Prince and Vaisey due the testimony Sir Edward had offered to the King. The two were stripped of any family wealth they had managed to hold onto and were essentially kept prisoner in their own home. They were watched day and night and their few servants were replaced with others who were loyal only to Vaisey.

They'd known that it was only a matter of time before they were hauled off to the dungeons or hanged and they'd lived in constant fear that they would be killed in their sleep or that their food would be poisoned before that day even arrived. They were trapped, without friend or ally—any who might have sided with them having run for cover after the King's departure.

Uncle Robin had been able to do very little to help and had begged them both repeatedly to leave Knighton and come into the forest. But Sir Edward had refused to consider it and Auntie Marian would not leave him. She feared for his life and his health. He'd stopped eating, barely slept, and hardly even left his bed on most days. He grew weaker and his mind began to desert him.

Auntie Marian had sent for Umm—despite the danger to all of them that such interaction posed—because she feared he had been poisoned. Umm had concluded, after a thorough examination, that there was no evidence of foul play. That he had simply given up. He'd lost the will to go on in the face of so much defeat and he seemed to be merely waiting for death to claim him.

Umm had explained that there was nothing she could do if he refused to help himself and that—at the rate he was deteriorating—his days were few indeed. As it turned out, he was dead within a year of his audience with the king.

Auntie Marian had been devastated and she had finally decided that there was nothing left for her but to join the outlaws in Sherwood Forest. She'd come to the conclusion that she could do far more for her people from the outside than the inside at that point. So she and Uncle Robin had married in a small, secret ceremony—marriage being one of the privileges forbidden to outlaws—by a priest who was a loyal friend.

Again, Daniel knew all of this only because he'd heard—and _over_heard—the stories so many times growing up. He'd still been far too young to understand any of what was happening around him. As far as he recalled, Auntie Marian had always lived with them and had always been an important part of his life. He didn't remember her father at all—although he had no doubt that he'd been a brave and honorable man in his day.

Those years had been bleak ones indeed. The outlaws had been betrayed and abandoned by their king and shunned by many of the people for whom they had worked so tirelessly. Uncle Robin had felt it only right to make sure that his men knew that they were under no obligation to him and that they had his blessing to flee Nottingham and try to start over elsewhere.

But where could they have gone? They were known all over. Artists' renditions of them were distributed and posted all over England. In every tavern and market and port. Their faces and their names as familiar to most as the names of their own children.

There'd been nowhere to run and no place they could even _hope_ to hide. They were trapped. Cornered. Staying in Sherwood was at least safer than being out in the open. And besides, the people still _needed_ them—even if many of them refused to acknowledge that fact. And so they had chosen to stay. To fight. To aid the poor and downtrodden of Nottingham just as they always had.

They'd still stopped passing nobles and took any and every opportunity to rob the Sheriff of his ill-gotten wealth. They'd looted his food stores and stolen his money. And they'd given every bit of what they took to the starving villagers.

The outlaws themselves had been forced to live on money that Ysaac brought to Umm from Acre during his yearly—and now much more _dangerous—_visits. Using Umm's money was something that had not sat well with the men of the group. They were proud and saw it as charity. But Umm had insisted, arguing that they had taken her in when she'd had nothing and they'd given her an equal share of what little they had. The very _least_ she could do, she'd told them, was to share what _she_ had. That's what families do.

Even so, finding someone willing to trade with them was extremely difficult at times and more often than not, they'd had to rely on the kindnesses of the few peasants who had not forgotten their earlier sacrifices. Daniel knew that he'd never—as long as he lived—be able to fully comprehend what those years had been like for them. Part of him felt guilty for that and part of him was immensely grateful that he hadn't been aware of most of it.

In a great many ways, they'd had it even more difficult than the people they'd helped and they must surely have assumed that there lives would always be that way. That there was no light at the end of the tunnel and they would always be hunted, scared, and on the outside looking in at a world that had no place for them.

When they'd received word that King Richard had died—some five years after leaving England—Daniel remembered how Uncle Robin had mourned. But he'd been the _only_ one. The other outlaws had had very little patience for his grief. Even Uncle Much—who'd been very sad and worried over Uncle Robin's state of mind at the time—had long since let go of any affection he might have held for King Richard.

But Uncle Robin had always held out the hope that the king might come back one day and realize he'd been mistaken. That he might pardon all of them at last and stop the oppression and heavy taxation that claimed the lives of more and more good people every day. But with the King's death, all of his hope was finally lost. And he'd at last joined the others in accepting their fates.

But as it turned out, salvation had come from an unlikely source.

After a few years on the throne, King John had, apparently, decided that the long-coveted crown was not enough to ensure his happiness. He was unloved and unpopular. A _bad king_—many said. And yet, through everything, Robin Hood and his men were still praised and remembered in ballads and stories all across the land. _This _was what the king craved. This adoration, this devotion. The kind of passionate following that guaranteed one immortality.

And so a messenger had come to the forest with an unlikely offer. If Uncle Robin would cease speaking out against King John, and if he would instead speak of his virtues, his righteousness, his God-given right to the throne...then he would be pardoned. His lands and titles restored.

Uncle Robin, of course, had scoffed at such an idea. And he'd placed the edge of his blade at the base of the man's neck and warned him never to return to Sherwood Forest.

But the offers had continued. Each one sweeter than the last. Pardons for all of his men. Rewards. Lands. Security. Freedom from prosecution for any deed done while they'd been outlawed or before. _A fresh start._

But the outlaws could not be swayed by such pretty promises. They had lost far too much that could never be recovered. A wife and child, a brother, a father. And time. _So_ much time. Time that they could never get back. And they had no reason to trust in the King's promises at any rate. Even if they _had_ been tempted.

But the final offer was the one that had made the difference. The King—clearly thinking that freeing and pardoning Robin Hood was a sure way into men's hearts—would remove the Sheriff from office and see to it that he and his supporters payed for their 'crimes'. Never mind the fact that the then-Sheriff had been taking his orders directly _from_ King John himself and all that he'd done had helped secure the King's position. None of that mattered to a king who wanted—_needed_—to be loved. By the people.

Like _Robin Hood_ was.

The outlaws had had to seriously consider the people of Nottingham. The people who had lived under tyranny for so long that most of them were barely surviving day to day. But wouldn't the next Sheriff likely be just as harsh as the last? King John had anticipated such a response and had offered Uncle Robin the job himself. Or—if he declined—the authority to choose the next Sheriff. To choose someone to his liking. Someone who would do things the way Uncle Robin believed they _should_ be done.

So in the end, the outlaws had taken the chance on accepting his terms. They'd refused his titles and his offers of land and lofty positions—having no desire or need for such things—but they'd accepted his offer of a pardon and a new sheriff. Not for themselves—for they'd long since become resigned to their fate—but for the people for whom they fought. The people who deserved a better way of life.

And though it pricked their pride a bit to be seen aligning themselves with King John—a man who had been a thorn in their sides for so long—there was no denying the fact that he was the rightful king and _saying_ so—which was _all_ they were prepared to do as his virtues were something none of them had any intention of touting—was a small price to pay for a safe life for themselves, their loved ones and the people of Nottingham.

And so it was settled—all very secretly, of course. And within days the King's guards had moved in and seized Vaisey—taking him to London to await 'trial'. But his most loyal 'lapdog', the false Lord of Locksley was nowhere to be found. It was later assumed that he'd been tipped off somehow as to the unfolding events and had fled to France—in the dead of night—with his wife and children in tow and nothing but that which they could carry upon their backs.

Uncle Robin had been _furious_. He'd suspected some sort of trick and had threatened to back out of his arrangement with the King. So finally, Auntie Marian had confessed that _she_ had been the one to warn Sir Guy of Gisbourne of his impending arrest and likely execution. According to what she'd explained at the time, she'd crept into his home very late one night and begged him to think of his family. Of his wife and children. To take them far away from England immediately without telling anyone—particularly Vaisey—what they were doing.

She'd admitted that his first instinct had been to kill her on the spot—as apparently he had at one time been rather fond of her and had felt deeply stung by her desertion of him in favor of an outlaw's life. But she'd managed to convince him to hear her out which he'd reluctantly done. And then he'd simply allowed her to leave the way she'd come. He hadn't called for his guards and he hadn't tried to follow her. He'd just let her go.

Upon learning of what she'd done, Uncle Robin had been angrier than Daniel had ever seen him. Angrier than Daniel had ever seen _anyone_. Auntie Marian had maintained that she'd done the right thing. That Sir Guy wasn't like the Sheriff. Not really. That she was certain that she owed him her life. That when she and her father had been on such precarious ground with the Sheriff, after King Richard's departure, she felt sure that it was Sir Guy's influence that had kept them from the hangman's noose. Otherwise, she was certain that Vaisey would have done away with them immediately.

But Uncle Robin had not been convinced nor had he been appeased by her attempts at soothing him. He'd ranted and raved like a madman and then he'd stormed out of their camp and hadn't returned for weeks. _Weeks_! None of them had known _where_ he was or even if he intended to return. That had been a _terrible_ time. Daniel didn't need stories and whispered conversations to fill in the blanks of what had happened during that time. For he remembered _that_ part for himself. How could he forget?

He'd been used to Uncle Robin and Auntie Marian arguing. It was something they did quite a lot, even back then. But it was always good-natured and it was usually over very quickly. But _that_ time, Daniel had been truly scared. He'd missed his uncle horribly and had been very worried that he would never see him again. Everyone had tried not to let on to him how concerned they were, but he had known just the same.

Finally, a few weeks later, Uncle Robin had returned to them. Just like that. Looking thin and scruffy, but thankfully in one piece. He'd never mentioned the row again and, as far as Daniel was aware, neither had anyone else. Things were frosty between him and Auntie Marian for a while after, but they eventually got back to normal.

So, when Daniel had been about six years old, the outlaws had moved into Locksley Village. And all of a sudden they had normal lives. Just like that. They could go to the market, walk about the town, openly converse with their neighbors. It must have been so hard for them at first, but now it was almost as if those years in hiding had never happened. As if they really _were_ just stories swapped around the fire at night or ballads thought up and sung by drunks in crowded taverns.

Almost.

In any event, they had a _good_ Sheriff now. A man hand-picked by Uncle Robin and the rest of his men. Someone who understood justice and who did more than simply collect the taxes and man the jails. He looked out for his people and made certain that things ran smoothly. That good men were not taken advantage of and that people had enough to live on. Nottingham was a good place to live and its people were safe and prosperous.

And as Daniel looked around his village now, he couldn't help but be proud of the role his parents and their friends had played in ensuring that it was so.

As he neared his house he noticed a cart parked along the front road and he quickened his pace. As soon as he walked through the door and set down the pies and cakes he carried, he was grabbed from behind and spun so high in the air that he was glad he'd skipped breakfast. "Uncle Allan! Put me _down_!" he said, unable to suppress a childish giggle.

"What, too big for that now, are ya?" he chuckled, setting a swaying Daniel back on solid ground.

"Yeah. For some time, I'd say," Dad said, coming in through the back door.

"Nah. Never too big to horse play with your uncle," Uncle Allan answered. "Ain't that right, Danny Boy?"

Daniel smiled and nodded as Uncle Allan mussed his hair affectionately. He'd missed his uncle.

"Seems _you're_ the one who never grows too big for horseplayin'," Uncle Allan's wife Rebecca chimed in as she entered the room along with Umm and a whole line of small children following.

"Daddy! Daddy! Show me again how to do that trick with the coin! Please?" little Beatrice begged excitedly. "Salma don't believe I can do it!"

"That's 'cause she _can't_," Salma said, folding her arms across her chest and eying her friend skeptically. Her actions were immediately mimicked by Simon who was always her shadow.

"Can _so_! Just wait and see. My Daddy knows all the best tricks and he shows me how to do 'em," Beatrice answered indignantly.

"Hey hey, now. None of that. I'll show you the trick again, but you have to play nice," Uncle Allan told his four year old daughter.

"But she—"

"Enough, Beatrice. You've been looking forward to coming here for weeks now so that you could play with Salma. Now don't spoil everyone's good time with such nonsense," Rebecca said sternly.

"And the same goes for you, young lady," Umm told Salma with a look that everyone knew meant business.

"Sorry," the girls said in unison before throwing their arms around Uncle Allan's legs and begging to see the trick. Simon, of course, followed suit.

"If ya give _me_ a coin and close yer eyes, I bet _I_ can make it disappear," Thomas, Uncle Allan's five year old son, announced proudly.

"Oh I bet you could," Umm laughed. "There was a time when your father was quite good at making people's coins disappear."

"Still is," Rebecca added. "You should see what he's charging for a pint these days."

"Man's gotta make a livin'," Uncle Allan answered with one of his cheeky grins.

"My dad says there's nothin' wrong with chargin' a man fer his voice," Thomas informed the group, who laughed.

"I think you mean his _vice_," Daniel's father offered.

"Yeah, that," Thomas answered, looking quizzically at the laughing faces of his parents and their friends.

"You take after him more and more each time I see you," Dad said, chucking the little blond-haired boy under the chin and earning himself a scowl for it.

"Ma!" Saffiya called, coming through the back door with her baby brother on her hip. "I can't get Muriel and William away from that goat and I think Colin's hungry again."

"Alright, alright. Allan, you see to the two little ones while I feed the baby," she said, taking her youngest son from the six year old's arms. She set herself down at the table and undid her top while Uncle Allan headed out into the yard with Thomas, Salma, Beatrice, and Saffiya in tow. Simon tried to keep up but stumbled and fell on his way out the door and began to cry.

Both of his parents rushed forward but Dad got their first and righted the little boy before brushing him off and giving him a quick once over to make sure he hadn't really hurt himself.

"Shh. You're okay. You try so hard to keep up, don't you, son? But Salma's just too quick sometimes," Dad said soothingly, picking the three year old up and giving him a kiss on the forehead. "You know? I bet you're tired out from so much activity, aren't you?"

Simon nodded, rubbing his tear-streaked face sleepily and laying his head on Dad's shoulder. So Dad carried him off into one of the back rooms to lay him down for a nap.

Daniel took a seat just outside the back door to watch what was sure to be very entertaining as Uncle Allan attempted to round up all the children. He wondered where Janey was and then realized that she was probably up in her tree house, by herself, reading one of her books.

Whereas Salma was an extremely social little girl and made friends wherever she went, Janey just wasn't comfortable around other kids. She didn't seem to have anything in common with them and he wondered sometimes if they were doing her a disservice by not trying to coax her out into the world a bit more. But, at the same time, she seemed perfectly content and he wouldn't want to do anything that would make her uncomfortable.

"Goodness, Rebecca! Do not tell me that you are still giving him the breast? You are much too far along for that," Daniel heard Umm say in astonishment as she took a seat near the other woman.

He had his back to them and was a few feet away, but he could still hear them clearly through the open door. He wondered for a moment if it might not be worth the effort to go out and assist Uncle Allan in corralling the children rather than remaining within earshot of a conversation that was sure to turn to children, husbands and other womanly matters that Daniel had no interest in hearing.

"I know. I know," Rebecca said and Daniel could just imagine her patting her round belly. "I'd meant to have him weaned by now but there just aren't enough hours in the day sometimes to get done with everything I have to do," she sighed.

"But Allan said that the tavern is doing so well. He was telling us that he just hired an extra man to tend the bar and one to keep order on busy nights. Could he not afford some help for you with the children?" Umm asked.

"He's offered many times. But I don't really like the idea of them thinking of somebody else as their mother, you know? If she's feeding 'em and bathing 'em and keeping track of 'em while they play, how're they suppose to know which of us is their ma?"

"That would not happen and you know it. Of _course_ they would know that you are their mother. How could they not? Marian is quite happy with the girl she and Robin have looking after _their_ children. Rose is her name and she is very good with them, but there is never any doubt as to who their mother is."

"Maybe I'll talk to Marian about it tonight," Rebecca said after pausing to consider Umm's words carefully. "You know, I should have done what you told me years ago and spaced the babies out a little better. It's just that sometimes I'd get so busy what with trying to help Allan get the tavern up and running and chasing around after the little ones all day that I'd forget to take the seeds you gave me. Not often, but once is all it takes."

"Very true. How do you think we got Simon?" Umm said and the two women laughed. Daniel rolled his eyes and was once again grateful he'd skipped breakfast as he scooted his stool even further away from the house. "That is why I always tell women to keep them by their bedside so that there is never any chance of forgetting,"

"But I'm not complaining. Really I'm not. I love having a houseful. Me and Allan had to wait so long to marry and start a family that I guess we just tried to fit as many kids into the past seven years as we possibly could," Rebecca laughed.

"And Allan is so good with them. He has such a way with children. I remember when Daniel was just a little boy back in the forest, Will and I never had to worry about getting him to sleep at night because Allan would spend the last hours after supper each night tiring him out with stories and tricks and every game he could think up," Umm said wistfully. "I always knew that he would make an excellent father one day."

"Yeah. He's a good dad, he is. I'll give him that. A bit too soft on the children for my liking sometimes, but there are worse things, aren't there?"

Daniel watched his uncle as he ran about trying to gather up every one of the children, only to realize, just after getting his hands on the last one, that the other ones were not where he'd put them. It was true. He _was_ a great father. He never seemed to lose patience. And he was always quick with a song or a story in order to soothe a cranky child—his or someone else's.

One of the saddest days of Daniel's young life had been when Uncle Allan, Rebecca and their—then three—children had moved from Locksley over to Barnsdale to open up a tavern. Uncle John had left Locksley not long before, but Daniel had at least understood _his_ reasoning.

Daniel knew how much Uncle John loved his own son and how much he regretted missing seeing him grow up. Uncle John spoke to him often of Little Little John and of how much he wished he could be a part of his life. Although he loved Daniel and the rest of the children of his fellow former gang members, not a day went by when he didn't think of his son and wonder what he was up to.

So when Little Little John had come to Nottingham a few years back to seek him out and ask him to consider moving out to Bolsover to be near his grandchildren, Uncle John had been surprised and very touched. It was more than he'd ever expected and must have seemed to him like the second chance he'd so often prayed for.

Daniel had been so sad to see him go but he'd understood. He'd known that he would miss Uncle John's piggy back rides and the long quiet walks they shared through the forest—with Uncle John speaking only to point out the different edible plants or best fishing spots—but he'd also known that Uncle John needed to be near his own son. And that it was a wonderful thing that he would get the chance to watch his grandchildren grow up after missing out on his son's childhood.

But Uncle Allan's departure had felt like abandonment. It had felt to Daniel as if his whole family was leaving him. First Uncle John, then Uncle Allan and Rebecca. And all to open up some stupid tavern! It had seemed so unfair at the time.

But Daniel now understood how hard it must have been for Uncle Allan in Locksley. He didn't have an estate with an income like Uncle Much or Uncle Robin. And he didn't have a craft like Dad or knowledge of healing like Umm. And where Uncle John had been able to do odd jobs in order to earn enough to feed himself—being vehemently opposed to accepting charity from his friends, Uncle Allan had had several mouths to feed and another on the way.

His skills ran more along the lines of making people feel at ease and showing everyone a good time. So a tavern in Barnsdale had seemed to be right up his alley and Daniel now understood that it had been the right decision. He also knew how hard it was for Uncle Allan to leave him—having been a part of Daniel's life since day one.

He had probably spent about as much time with Daniel as his own parents had and Daniel knew that—despite the fact that Uncle Allan had had children of his own by that point—the separation had been just as difficult for him as it had been for Daniel.

"Anybody home?" came a booming voice from the front door and Daniel peeked in to see Uncle John stepping inside after stomping his feet to remove the soil from his boots.

"John!" Umm said, getting up and running to throw her arms around the big man. "Come inside. Sit. Can I get you anything?"

"Cup 'o water'd be nice," he said sitting himself down at the table and politely averting his gaze from Rebecca as she now hastily fastened her top after feeding the now-sleeping one year old in her lap.

"John," Rebecca nodded in greeting. "I thought Will told me you were bringing a couple of your grandkids."

"Just the two oldest boys this time. They're sleeping in the back of the wagon. I was gonna wake 'em when we pulled into Locksley, but I thought better to let 'em sleep. They're bound to be up late tonight and a nap now might do 'em good," he answered.

"Hey, Uncle John," Daniel greeted, coming to sit beside him.

"Well, look at you! I think you've grown since last I saw you."

"You just saw me a few weeks ago!" Daniel laughed at the fact that Uncle John accused him of growing taller every single time he saw him. No matter how little time passed between visits sometimes.

"I think that you are right about that, John. You know, he is already nearly as tall as Will and yet I think that he has not finished growing. It is possible that one day he will pass even _you_," Umm said, setting a cup of water in front of him.

"Aye. I wouldn't doubt it," he replied. "So how's it feel to me a man now?" he asked Daniel.

"Same, I suppose," Daniel shrugged, making everyone at the table laugh although he wasn't quite sure why.

"Granddad?" came a small voice from the doorway. They all turned to see a skinny boy of about seven standing shyly at the entrance.

"David, come in boy. Come and sit with Granddad. Is your brother still sleeping?" Uncle John asked the boy as he slowly edged closer, being careful not to make eye contact with anyone.

"Mm hm," the little boy answered as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes and parked himself on his grandfather's big lap.

"The other children are out in the back with Allan if you want to go out and join them," Umm offered. But David declined with a quick shake of his head.

"He's a quiet one, my David. Stays out of the fray for the most part. But he keeps his Granddad company, don't ya boy?" Uncle John said, giving the boy an affectionate pat on the back.

"Well then, he may do better to stay in here with us. They are a rowdy bunch out there," Umm said.

"And I wonder what on earth is taken Allan so long to get those children rounded up?" Rebecca said.

"Last I saw, Thomas was trying to ride the goat and both William and Muriel were trying to figure out what would hatch if they sat on the chickens. At this rate, Uncle Allan's gonna be out there all night trying to settle everyone down," Daniel answered.

"Sounds as if it's a good thing Little Little Little John's still asleep in the wagon. He's a rambunctious one and he'd surely add to the chaos," Uncle John chuckled.

"Good Lord, John. Tell me you don't still call the boy that?" Dad said as he reentered the room after getting Simon off to sleep.

"What? Little Little Little John? That's his _name_. At least, it's what he's called." Everyone laughed and rolled their eyes at that. "It _is_," Uncle John insisted, somewhat bewildered by their reaction.

"Well then let us hope that the boy chooses some _other_ name when _he_ has a son. For I do not know how anyone could manage a mouthful like Little Little Little Little John," Umm said through her laughter.

_**Outlaw Camp, Sherwood Forest, Daniel's Birth Day, Late Autumn, 1194**_

Will silently pulled back the curtain that ran along the front of their bed and peered in. He was met with the wide open eyes of his wife.

"There, see Daniel?" he whispered to the child in his arms. "I told you that I heard Mama moving around in here. Or Mummy. Or...what _do_ you want him to call you?" he asked Djaq.

"Will Scarlett, if you are telling me that I have been sleeping for so long that Daniel is now talking, I shall be very upset with you for not waking me sooner," she teased.

"No, silly. You _have_ been out for quite a while. Just not quite _that_ long," he laughed.

"You should have woken me," she admonished.

"I didn't have the heart to. I knew how tired you were and you looked so peaceful. Have you been awake for long?"

"I only awoke a moment ago," she said. "But you should not have let me sleep so long. I did not mean to leave you to tend to Daniel all on your own."

"You needed your rest," he told her. "Besides, we were fine. Everybody took turns holding him and playing with him. He seems to really like John's beard but Much tried singing to him and he wasn't having any of it."

"See? I knew that he was a sensible child," she laughed.

"Of course, as soon as he needed changing, they all decided they were ready for bed. Didn't they, son?" he asked the squirming infant. "But that's okay. We managed. He actually slept for most of the time you were resting anyway. I think he's hungry now, though," he told her.

"Ah yes. I suppose that is the one thing you cannot do yourself, eh?"

"Nope. I just don't have what it takes," he teased. "Do you need help sitting up?"

"No no. I can do it," she said, pulling herself up into a sitting position and reaching out for the baby.

"There we go," Will said, handing him over and taking a seat next to them on the bed before closing the curtain so they were shielded. Even though most of the other outlaws were asleep, he figured that it was a good idea to get into the habit keeping the curtain closed while Djaq was feeding the baby. For _everyone's_ comfort.

As soon as Djaq had untied her gown and placed the child near her breast, he started making little sounds of frustration and frantically searching with his mouth. "My goodness! You _are_ hungry. Give me a moment," she said, using her free hand to place her nipple against his mouth. As soon as he felt it, he settled down and began sucking contentedly.

Will, too, suddenly felt completely content. This was all he would ever want as long as he lived. _This_. A family with the woman he loved.

"So you didn't answer my question," he said quietly, brushing a strand of hair away from her face and watching in fascination as she fed their son.

"What question was that?" she asked, turning her head to look at him.

He immediately forgot what he'd been about to say. _God help him_ she was so beautiful. Those eyes! He tried to gather his wits in order to speak, so caught off guard was he by her gaze. He wondered if she'd always have that effect on him.

"Er...What do you want him to call you? When he's older, I mean," he managed.

"I think that he will call me _Umm,_" she said decidedly, turning her attention back to the baby.

"Oh right. Arabic for "mother" right? That makes sense." She had been teaching him some Arabic words over the past few months. He was finding the pronunciation of most words rather difficult, but she was very patient with him and she seemed confident in his ability to learn it by the time Daniel was ready to talk.

"And _you_?" she asked.

"Do you think he should call me the Arabic word for father?"

"It is up to you, my love. What would you like to be called?" she asked him.

"I was thinking of "Dad". That's what we always called _our_ father. Luke and me. What do you think?"

"Yes. I like it. It suits you," she said as he watched her run a finger along the baby's cheek lovingly.

"You think so?"

"Yes, of course. It gives the feeling of strength and protection, yet at the same time, it is not too formal like "father" would be. It denotes comfort and familiarity. It sounds just right for you," she answered with a smile, never taking her eyes off their son.

And Will never took his eyes off of _her_. She never ceased to amaze him. The fact that she could pull so much meaning out of one simple word just boggled his mind. He supposed that was one of the benefits of being able to speak many languages. Perhaps she had learned ways of seeing the subtlety in names and words that most people missed. Perhaps that was how she was always able to choose the perfect words to express just what she wanted to say.

"Thank you, Djaq," he whispered, leaning in to kiss her face.

"What for?" she asked, turning toward him again.

"For this. For _him_," he said, indicating their son. "For loving me and giving me a family."

"Oh Will. I have not given you any more than you have given to _me_. You and Daniel mean everything to me. You _know_ that." She appeared to contemplate something for a moment. "Would you do something for me?"

"Anything," he answered without hesitation.

"Would you bring me that small chest that Ysaac brought to me? The one with the—"

"I know the one you mean. I'll get it now."

He'd been wondering if there would ever come a day when she'd feel ready to open that chest and examine its contents. The two of them had spoken of it only once or twice during the weeks since she'd received it and he knew how afraid she was of the feelings that would arise in her at seeing the personal belongings of her departed loved ones.

When he returned with the chest, the baby had finished feeding and had drifted off to sleep.

"He looks so peaceful," she said softly, looking down at their son as she wiped away the milk from the corners of his mouth. "For now, he has no worries. But life is often so unkind."

Will noticed that her eyes darted very briefly over toward the chest he held as she said this and he thought for a moment that she was changing her mind. That she would tell him to take it back because she was not yet ready to fully face the past.

But instead she motioned for him to set it down if front of her—which he did—and she gently transfered the sleeping baby into his arms. He took a seat across from her on the bed so that he was facing her as she readied herself for a task that was likely to be extremely painful for her. The symmetry of her choosing to delve into the past and confront any unresolved feelings she may still have on the very day that they had welcomed a new life into the world was not lost on him.

He didn't want to pressure her either with words or glances, so he avoided looking both at _her_ and the box in front of her. For a few moments she did nothing. She didn't move and she didn't say a word. Part of him wanted so much to find something he could say or do that might make this easier on her, but he knew that it was simply something she had to face on her own.

That thought made him wonder if she might not prefer to be alone when she opened it. That maybe she was not making any move to say or do anything because she was patiently waiting for him to take Daniel elsewhere in the camp, giving her some privacy.

As he looked up into her face to ask her if she wanted him to go, he saw that she was looking at him with an amused expression on her face.

"Whatever thoughts are dancing behind those eyes, Will Scarlett, will have to wait for at least a month," she said as she retied her gown.

And he realized that he'd been staring at her still-open top. Not _staring_ really. It was just that his eyes had been resting there while he'd been deep in thought. It hadn't been intentional. He hadn't even _noticed_ that her breast was still partially exposed until she'd called his attention to it. He blushed slightly and opened his mouth to try to explain himself when she spoke instead.

"Are you actually _blushing_?" she asked incredulously with a laugh. "After all that you and I have done together?"

"But I wasn't... I was just..." he stammered.

"Well, look at it this way. Yes, we will have to wait for a whole month before we can be together, but since I am no longer with-child, once we resume our..._activities_, I will no longer have to be so inhibited."

He was about to protest again and try to explain himself lest she think that he was some sort of animal who could not even control his urges on the day his wife gave birth, but then the meaning of her words registered somewhere in the back of his mind and he blanched.

"Wait. _What_?" he asked, swallowing hard.

"Well I have had to be somewhat..._reserved_...in our lovemaking, naturally. Because of the child in my womb. But now that he is born, I will be able to give myself to you more fully," she answered matter-of-factly.

Will was absolutely floored and he had no idea how to respond to that. He thought of the way that she routinely attacked him the moment they were alone together, clawing at him and nearly ripping off his clothes. Of the way that the things she did to him always made his eyes roll back in his head and his fists clench and had him pleading for mercy even as she left him begging for more.

Now she was telling him that there was _more_ where that came from? That she'd been holding _back_? He really wished she hadn't told him so, for now the next month would surely feel like a year crawling by.

"What are you thinking?" she asked, breaking him out of his thoughts—which was probably a good thing—and causing a new blush to creep up his cheeks.

"I'm trying to decide if I'm the luckiest man alive or if I should start running for my life," he teased.

"Probably both," she answered evenly with only the tiniest glint of laughter in her eyes.

Her mood seemingly lightened, Will watched as she ran a shaky hand over the top of the box before unlatching it and pushing back the lid.

* * *

Later that night, Djaq jolted awake when she heard little Daniel begin to whimper lightly from his cradle at her bedside.

"There there. Everything is fine now. I am here. Shh shh," she lulled soothingly as she reached down and scooped him up.

"S'at the baby?" Will asked sleepily, sitting up and rubbing his eyes.

"I have him. You go back to sleep," she whispered.

"I'll stay up with you," he yawned.

"It has been a long and tiring day for you too, Will. There is no point in both of us being up. You should rest," she told him quietly. "Besides, Daniel and I have not had the chance to spend any time alone together yet. We have much to talk about."

Will chuckled. "Are you sure? Because I don't mind," he asked.

"I am sure. Go back to sleep," she encouraged him. He yawned again before turning over onto his stomach and resuming his slumber.

As the baby squirmed and fussed, she told him, "Now then. Let us get you some dry wrappings and then we can find a quiet place to sit together while you eat."

A few minutes later, she opened the hatch very quietly—careful not to wake anyone else—and stepped out into the bright, clear night. Daniel was still whimpering softly in frustration over being made to wait for his meal.

"What's the matter?" Much—who was on watch—asked anxiously the moment she stepped outside.

"Everything is fine, Much. I thought that I might sit at the base of that big oak and feed Daniel. But I do not want to interfere with your watch," she explained.

"Hi there, Daniel," Much cooed, peeling back the blanket from the infant's face. "It's your Uncle Much. Remember me? Want to hear a song?"

"Perhaps a song is not such a good idea while everyone is asleep," she said, hoping he would not decide to sing anyway.

"Oh. Perhaps you're right. Can I hold him, then?" he asked hopefully. "I hardly got to hold him at all while everyone else was up. And I have to make sure I spend enough time with him to counteract Allan's influence. Otherwise, Daniel will spend the rest of his life calling me Auntie Much."

"He is hungry right now but after I feed him you may hold him as long as you like," she told him. "And I promise you that he will never call you Auntie Much. He will love you and be _proud_ to call you his uncle."

"Are you sure it's safe to have him outside so soon?" he asked worriedly all of a sudden.

At this, she laughed. "Our whole _camp_ is outside, Much. Besides, the fresh air will do him good."

"But it's a bit chilly," he continued and Djaq marveled at how many worries one man could carry.

"He is nicely bundled up, I assure you."

"But then—"

"He will be _fine_, Much," she said a bit more pointedly. "And he is hungry. So I will sit over there and feed him now if you do not mind."

"Oh right. Of course. I'll just give you a bit of privacy then. I was just about to walk the perimeter of the camp anyway," he said.

Djaq took a seat by the big oak and began to feed her son. As she did so, she looked down into his determined little face as he took her milk as if he believed it might be the last time he would be fed. "No one is going to take it from you, you know," she laughed as she ran her finger over his face and head, struck by how much he seemed to resemble both her and Will.

"Today is your birth day, Daniel," she told him. "A very exciting and special day for you. You are starting your life."

He, of course, payed absolutely no attention to her words at all. For the moment, his whole world was wrapped up in being fed and clean and dry. But one day that would change. One day he would grow to be a man and he would no longer need her. It was natural and right that it should be so, she knew. But it frightened her none the less. The world was so big and full of so many cruelties and she just couldn't bear the thought of him being hurt or even disappointed.

"I am sure that you will have many ups and downs throughout your life," she continued. "But I hope that you can look back one day and say that you have had more _good_ times than _bad_. That is the measure of a life well-lived."

He closed his eyes and his suckling began to slow. She thought that he was probably growing sleepy and she wondered how long it would take for her to learn all of his different cries and moods. How long before she became a good mother—like the village women she had seen who seemed to know instinctively what their children needed and wanted.

She wondered if there would ever come a day when she'd be completely confident in herself and her abilities with him. If she'd ever be _worthy_ of him. He was such a blessing—one she had never asked for nor ever expected to receive—and she knew that she would spend her whole life trying to deserve him.

"I wonder if you will ever know how much I love you. How much your happiness means to me. I am going to try my hardest to give you the best life I can. Full of love and hope and family. I wish that I could promise you no worries or pain. But I cannot. Know this, though: You are my heart, Daniel Scarlett. And I will always love you more than anything in this world."

And she leaned down and kissed the top of his head as he drifted off to sleep.

_**Outlaw Camp, Sherwood Forest, Daniel's Birthday, Late Autumn, 1208**_

Daniel sat by himself off to the side and looked around the camp. He looked at all the people he loved and who loved _him_. The camp itself—the one his father had designed and built before Daniel was even born—was still in pretty good shape. Daniel and his Dad came out every once in a while to replace old boards or retie loosening beams. But it was well made and had proven that by standing the test of time.

This had been Daniel's first home and, although it was rather cramped at the moment due to all of the people within, there was a time when Daniel had been quite comfortable here. The former outlaws, too, had felt at home here. At times, Daniel was sure this was the _only_ place they'd felt that way.

Daniel had lost count of the number of times over the years that they had gone out to the old camp for some sort of celebration, private meeting or even just for a break from village life. In fact, during their first year of freedom—back right before Umm, Auntie Marian, and Rebecca had started having babies—Daniel remembered that they had probably spent nearly as many nights at the old camp as they had in Locksley.

He recalled the way that one of them would come up with some reason for going out to the forest at least once per week—to check that everything was secure, or to see if any roof beams needed replacing, or to check if any animals had gotten inside. Any excuse. Then all of the others would volunteer to go along and they'd make an evening of it.

Things would start out awkwardly at first, but then slowly but surely, everyone would start to relax and the conversation would flow more readily until at last they were back to their old selves. If only for the night. They'd all sit around the fire, drinking and eating and talking. And, more times than not, it would grow late and someone would suggest that they all just sleep there. Which they would.

Despite the freedom and wonder of their new lives, the small camp deep within the forest had still been their true home back then. The one place where they could be themselves. Where they knew what to expect and where everything was familiar. Daniel now understood how hard a 'normal' life was for them during that first year. How difficult it was for each of them to find their place. How the villagers would routinely crowd around them and talk about the glory days or ask them for advice on some matter or other. Or just how strange it was to sleep in a regular bed or walk down the street without fear.

Although Daniel knew that his parents and the others were grateful to be free and especially to be so readily accepted by everyone in Nottingham, he also recognized now how those evenings spent at their old camp were probably the only times they felt like they could breathe easily. Even for a short while. It must have been so comforting for them to spend some time surrounded by no one but the only other people on earth who could possibly understand what they were feeling.

Of course, as the babies came, work got busy, responsibilities grew, and people moved away, the trips to the forest became fewer and further between. They would still come out sometimes for a celebration or just a break, but hardly ever with all of them at the same time.

In fact, Daniel couldn't remember the last time they'd all been together _anywhere_. But they'd all come together for his fourteenth birthday. They had left their homes and work and come out with him to celebrate this very special day. Because they were his family and they loved him. And he'd never felt luckier.

On this particular night, they'd all been at the camp for several hours now. Food and drink had been passed around, jokes and stories shared—some old, some new—and a good time was had by all. The very little ones had fallen asleep at least an hour ago and everyone who remained awake was snuggled up in a blanket or huddled about the fire.

The adults were all in one corner of the camp, having a quiet conversation of which Daniel could hear only snippets or the tinkling of laughter from time to time. His parents were holding hands—as usual—and Uncle Allan had his arm around Rebecca while Uncle Robin and Auntie Marian were huddled together and sharing a blanket. Uncle John and Uncle Much flanked the group on either side.

The children who weren't asleep were on the other side of the camp—in the old sleeping area—and were gathered around Janey as she told them story after story. All eyes were on her and no one dared speak a word as she cleverly wove tales so lively and intriguing that Daniel himself almost forgot that he'd heard each of her stories numerous times before. She seemed to know just when to pause for effect or when to drop her voice to nearly a whisper to add just the right amount of suspense.

She certainly took after Umm and even, Daniel thought, Uncle Allan—who was a gifted story teller in his own right. Janey kept everyone on the edge of their seat and David—Uncle John's very quiet and shy grandson—sat very close to her and seemed to be hanging on her every word with rapt attention. Even Bart and Mary were listening to her colorful tales as they fought off sleep.

If Bart had noticed anything different between Daniel and Mary tonight, he hadn't mentioned it. Although, frankly, there would have been little to notice. Nothing had really changed except that Daniel was more comfortable around her than he'd been in the past several weeks. But that only meant that things were back to normal between them...not _different_.

Daniel didn't know what he'd been expecting to change. It wasn't as if he thought they'd spend the entire evening kissing or anything. Certainly not with everyone around, anyway. But he _had_ thought that there might be _something_. Some sign to indicate that they'd reached an understanding with one another. That they were on the same page regarding their feelings.

But there had been nothing to speak of. The three of them had laughed and talked like they always had. In a way, Daniel was glad that nothing had changed. He cared for Mary in a special way and she felt the same for him. And knowing that was more than enough for the moment. Surely they would clue Bart in on everything sooner or later—that is if he didn't already have his suspicions—but for now, things were just as they should be.

"So, John?" Daniel heard Umm say. "What is this that your grandson is telling everyone? That you have a _lady friend_ back home?"

Daniel could not see Uncle John's face from where he was, but he had no doubt that the man was scowling. Daniel was also sure that his mother was smirking and enjoying Uncle John's discomfort a bit.

"Come on, Big Man," Uncle Allan joined in. "You can tell us. What's her name?"

"Leave him be, Allan," Rebecca scolded him quietly.

"Ann," nine year old Little Little Little John announced from the other side of the camp where he was seated with the other children. Daniel often marveled at the incredible ability children had of hearing only that which wasn't intended for their ears. "Her name is Ann. She comes to the house every day to bring him a fresh pie or some other treat. And she calls him _Johnny_," he rolled his eyes.

"Ah, Ann is it?" Umm said. "Why did we not meet her when we were at your house recently?"

"She's not a '_lady friend_'. She's a _friend_," Uncle John grumbled.

"Who just happens to be a lady," Umm pressed him, making the other adults giggle like children.

"Sounds like a lady friend to me," Uncle Allan said.

"Can't see what else you'd call it," Uncle Much agreed while the others all nodded, enjoying making Uncle John squirm.

"Aye, but it's nothing like what you're all thinking," Uncle John said gruffly.

"How do you know _what_ we're thinking?" Uncle Robin asked slyly.

"Just drop it, would you? And you, boy," he shouted over to his eldest grandson, "stop talking about things you don't know nothing about."

"Shh," everyone said at once.

"You'll wake the children, John," Auntie Marian warned him.

"Then stop talking nonsense. All of you," he growled in a lower voice.

"Alright. We won't push you, John," Dad said. "But you know that we just want you to be happy."

"That's right, _Johnny_," Uncle Robin couldn't resist putting in.

If Uncle John made any reply, Daniel didn't hear it as the other adults tried and failed to suppress their laughter.

Daniel turned back once again to look at the group of children huddled about his sister. He was so relieved that she was having such a good time. And especially that she'd found a way to interact with the other children. She'd spent the first part of the evening with either the adults or with Daniel and his friends.

She'd laughed and chatted along with everyone else, but Daniel had seen her eyes sweep over to where the other children ran about playing tag or having races or some other activity and he'd seen how left out she'd felt. She just didn't have a knack for doing those sorts of things and Daniel had felt so bad for her—though he'd never tell her that, seeing as her pride was something she protected fiercely. But now she was doing what she loved and was good at and the other kids were enjoying it immensely.

Daniel started when he felt a hand on his shoulder and he turned to see his mother taking a seat beside him on the floor.

"She is quite the little storyteller, is she not?" Umm said quietly, smiling toward her eldest daughter.

"They're eating it up too," he agreed.

Neither of them said anything more for a moment. Daniel wondered if this was a good time to speak to her about the decision he'd made. But maybe it wasn't fair to throw something so upsetting at her while they were in the company of so many people. She would surely be heartbroken when she learned that he wouldn't be following her dream and he didn't want to make it worse.

"You have been avoiding me," she said simply, after a moment.

It would have been foolish to deny it so he nodded, avoiding her gaze.

"Does this have anything to do with Mary?"

"Mary?" he asked, turning to look at her.

"The two of you seem...closer," she said and he wondered how on earth she could tell that when Daniel himself could hardly detect any difference in their interaction.

"We...that is _I_...like her," he answered haltingly.

"Yes. And she likes _you_," she stated matter-of-factly.

"No, I mean I _like her_. Like a girl."

At that his mother smirked at him. "Yes, Daniel," she said in an amused tone. "You like her like a girl."

"I...I think I love her," he admitted quietly.

"Of course you do. I do understand such things, you know. Have you been avoiding me because you are afraid that I will not approve?"

"No. No, I never even thought about that," he answered truthfully.

"Good, because you know that I like her. She is a lovely person."

He nodded again. His mother seemed to be waiting for him to say something more, to offer some explanation for how strangely he'd been behaving. When he didn't, she reached behind her and brought out a small box.

"I wanted to wait until you and I were alone to give this to you," she said, placing the box between them on the floor. "I have been trying to find a quiet moment with you for the past few days but..." her voice trailed off and Daniel felt an enormous pang of guilt. His mother must be so hurt and confused over his avoidance of her. She didn't deserve that. She deserved the truth...no matter how painful.

"Umm, I should have told you this as soon as I was sure of it myself, but I don't want to go to Acre to study medicine. I want to stay here and study carpentry with Dad. I want to live in Locksley. With my family...and Mary. I'm so sorry to hurt you this way," he said, hanging his head. It had all come out in one long rush of words and now that it _was_ out he felt strangely relieved...yet horrible at the same time.

"_Hurt_ me? Why should I be hurt? I only want your happiness. You know that," she said in a gentle voice.

"I know that you're disappointed in me though," he responded, still not meeting her eyes.

"Daniel Scarlett, look at me!" she demanded. He did. "I could never be disappointed in you. Not _ever_. I have been so heartbroken over the thought of you moving so far away. I knew how badly I would miss you. And you think that I would be disappointed to hear that your are not going?"

"But...but you've been so excited ever since I told you that was what I wanted to do."

"Yes, because I want you to be happy. And once you assured me that it was something you truly wanted, I was so happy to be in a position to make it happen for you. Despite my own sadness over being separated from you."

"So you don't feel like me following in your father's footsteps would give you back what you lost?" he asked, now rather confused.

"Why would you think that? Is that why you said that you wanted to study medicine? To honor _me_?" she asked incredulously.

Nod.

"_Why_ Daniel? What is it that you think that I have lost?"

He met her gaze firmly. "I know how much was taken from you and how much you've had to give up in your life. I wanted so badly to be able to do what you wish _you_ could've done. Study in the _bimaristan_ and become a real physician. Doing _real_ work. _Important_ work." He shook his head. "I thought I could do it. I thought I _wanted_ to do it. But once we got home I just..."

"Daniel—"

"It's not that I don't love your homeland," he insisted. "Because I _do_. Going there was amazing and better than anything I'd ever even dreamed about. But—"

"But this is your home," she finished for him.

Nod. "I _like_ medicine and everything and I like helping you, but carpentry is...well it's different than anything else. I feel like...when I have a block of wood in my hands I'm...well I just...everything makes _sense_. I can't really explain it. I know you wanted me to be a physician and I'm sorry I made you think that's what I wanted too."

"I honestly never really expected you to become a physician, Daniel. Not until you brought it up. You have always been a great help to me, yes, and you are very good at it, but I always assumed that you would follow into your father's line of work. You seem to have such a passion for it. That is why I was so surprised when you announced that you wanted to study medicine in Acre. If you recall, I even tried to discourage you from it. But you seemed so certain and so I wanted to help you in any way that I could. I knew that I would miss you terribly, but I did not wish to stand in the way of something you seemed to want so badly. I did not understand that the reason it was so important to you was because of what you thought it would represent for _me_. I wish you would have simply come to me and told me your reasons. We could have avoided all of this."

"I know. It was childish of me. I just hated the idea of letting you down," he said.

"You are _not_ letting me down. I have lost things throughout my life, it is true. But I have gained so much more than I have lost. And if you think that I am somehow..._settling_ for my life here than you are very much mistaken. I _love_ your father. And you and your sisters and brother. I love my friends and our neighbors. And what I do everyday _is_ real and important, Daniel. I provide people with the care they need. And I have learned things here...from _them_...that have proven invaluable to me. I am very happy with my life and my choices."

"You don't sometimes wish that you could have followed your dreams?" he asked her.

"Which dreams would those be? My dreams have changed so many times over the years. People cannot go backward, Daniel. It would be foolish to try. You do not know this, but your has father offered to move to Acre many times over the years. He, too, thought that he was offering to replace some of what I have lost. But my life is here now, just as I have always told you. We lead simple lives, yes. But I have learned the value of a simple life. And from what you are telling me, _your_ life is here too. So you should understand."

"I do. _Now_ I do. I thought that I could make up for your past. It was foolish."

"No. It was very sweet. I thank you for wanting to do that, but believe me, it is not necessary," she said seriously. "I just want you to be happy."

"Thank you." He had imagined this conversation so many times over the past several weeks, but never had any of his imaginary conversations with her ended this way. They always ended in sadness and bitter disappointment. He'd been a fool. He'd built this small misunderstanding into something huge rather than facing it head on. Like a man _should_ do.

"So now that we have settled that, will you not open your gift?" she prompted him.

He picked up the box and set it on his lap. He recognized the craftsmanship at once. It had been made by his father's hands. When he tipped back the lid, what he found inside was not at all what he might have expected.

There were but three things in the box. A book, some sort of coin attached to a rope made of gold, and something that resembled a very small boot, only it was made of silver and covered in jewels. He looked at his mother expectantly.

"As you know, where I come from, the fourteenth year is a very important year in a young man's life. It is then that he begins to be thought of as a man and no longer a boy. You may have noticed, while we were in Acre, that all of the men wear something like this at their waist," she explained, reaching in and picking up the boot-shaped thing from the box.

"It is a khanjar." And she used both of her hands to pull it apart, revealing that it was in fact a dagger of some sort. The boot-shaped piece was only its sheath. "It is presented to a boy when he reaches the age of fourteen as a rite of passage. It is to be worn at all times and is considered a symbol of strength and pride. Families often try to outdo one another by presenting their sons with the finest khanjars money can buy. Even poorer families invest in having the best khanjar that they can afford to have made for their sons, so important is it in society."

"So you had this made for me while we were in Acre?" he asked, stunned by the beauty and obvious expense of the thing.

"No. This _particular_ khanjar was made many years ago. My father commissioned to have this made by the finest craftsman around. He paid a great deal of money for it and took great care in choosing exactly which jewels would be placed in the hilt and scabbard. The blade itself is of the finest quality steel and is made through a process of combining water and metal that ensures that it will last a lifetime or longer."

"Your father had this made?" he asked, puzzled.

"Yes. For my brother's fourteenth birthday. My brother wore it always. He was very proud of it, as you can imagine. I doubt that the son of the Sultan himself carried a finer one. I thought that it had been lost when my brother was killed...in the war. But, a few weeks before your birth, Ysaac came to us for the first time and he brought me a small chest filled with a few personal belongings of my family. I found out that some of my brother's personal effects were sent to our home shortly after his death. I was not aware of it because I had left home by that point."

"You're giving this to me? Even though it was your brother's?" Daniel asked over the lump that had formed in his throat.

"You should have it. As I say, it is a rite of passage and it is only fitting that this one remain in our family. You do not have to wear it as you would if we lived in Acre, you can simply keep somewhere safe if that is what you wish. I know that it may not be practical here to display such wealth."

"Thank you, Umm. I will cherish it always," he said solemnly as he tried to fasten it to his tool belt. She saw the difficulty he was having—due to the strange design of the thing as well as his trembling hands—and reached across to fasten it in place for him.

"There," she said once it was on.

"And what of these?" he asked, indicating the two other items in the box.

"See that? Take it out," she said, pointing to the coin. "Turn it over. See? That is my family's crest."

"Your family had their own money?" he asked in astonishment.

"No. It is not a coin though it does resemble one. It is a medallion. You wear it around your neck. When I was growing up, my father used to sometimes travel to very remote villages in order to take his skills to the people whom he believed had the most need of them. Many physicians of his stature did not bother with such things. They felt it was beneath them. They treated their wealthy friends and neighbors and had little regard for those who may not have otherwise had access to good care."

"You've told me before what a good and honorable man your father was. I'm sorry I never knew him," he said a little sadly.

"So am I. And you are right, he was a good man. And as I've told you, he would often be away from home for weeks at a time. My mother was long dead by that point and we were all my father had. And he loved us very much. So sometimes, when he knew that he would be away for a longer period than usual, he would take us with him. The traveling was dangerous and the risks were very high. Especially when you consider that there was a war going on. We always traveled in a group—a caravan—and so the risks were less than if we went alone, but still it was dangerous."

She reached out for the medallion and ran her finger along the picture carved onto its face—which looked to be a serpent wrapped around an olive branch.

"My father had these made for us—my brother and me—in case we were ever separated from him for any reason. So that people would know who we were. That we were his children. Many people knew my father and they would recognize his emblem and return us to our home if he were unable. Then, even after his death, we never took them off. They reminded us that we belonged to him and to each other."

"Like your Robin Hood tag," Daniel said.

"Yes, very much like that," she smiled a sad smile. "Mine was taken from me when I was...captured. I had always assumed that my brother's was buried in the sands of some long-abandoned battlefield in Acre. But, as with the khanjar, it somehow miraculously found its way back to me. Again it was amongst the belongings of my loved ones that I received shortly before your birth. It is yours now. So that no matter how far from me you go, you will always know that you belong to me. Although, I am very relieved to know that you will not be going so far as I feared."

"Thank you. Again."

She nodded. "And now the book. This journal was among my father's journals. You have seen my father's journals and medical texts many times over the years. You know how invaluable they have been to me in my work. Just like his instruments. All of these things were delivered to me from Acre just before your birth. That delivery also included a few pieces of jewelry of my mother's. Those, too, you have seen before. I keep them in a box in my room. The thing is, I was actually afraid to open the chest containing those items for fear that it would be too painful," she explained and Daniel reached out and patted her hand.

"But I finally opened them on the day you were born. I wanted to confront the past and make a new start on that day. And I was glad that I did. The other items I have found uses for throughout the years, but these three things were special. I knew on that day that these things would be for you. So your father made this box especially to hold these three items until you reached an age when I thought you would be able to appreciate and understand their significance."

Daniel opened the book, eager to soak up the words that his mother had waited so long for him to read...the wisdom of the grandfather he had spent his life admiring. But it was empty. Every page was blank.

"I don't understand," he said.

"Your grandfather's final journal—the one he'd most recently written in when he died—was filled nearly to the end. I suspect that he had ordered this one in anticipation of needing a new one very soon. But he never got the chance to use it," she said. "I want _you_ to have it. Not because of its ties to the past, but because of its hopes for the future."

She leaned closer to him and took his face in her hands. "Today is your fourteenth birthday, Daniel," she told him. "A very exciting and special day for you. You are starting your life. I am sure that you will have many ups and downs throughout your life, but I hope that you can look back one day and say that you have had more _good_ times than _bad_. That is the measure of a life well-lived."

She reached down and flipped through the empty pages of the book. "These pages are waiting for _your_ words. _Your_ thoughts and experiences. Fill them well, my son."

She wrapped her arms around him then and for that moment, he didn't feel like a nearly-grown man. He felt for all the world like a little boy who still believed that the whole world existed in his mother's arms.

"I hope that you know how much I love you. How much your happiness means to me. I have tried my hardest to give you the best life I could. Full of love and hope and family. I wish that I could promise you that your future will hold no worries or pain. But I cannot. Know this, though: You are my heart, Daniel Scarlett. And I will always love you more than anything in this world." And she kissed the top of his head lightly. "Now stop sitting in this corner all by yourself. This is _your_ party, so go back over there with your friends where you belong," she said, nudging him playfully.

He stood up to comply but then turned back to where she still sat. "Thank you, Umm. For everything."

"Happy birthday, my son."

**The End**

A/N: I manipulated the historical portions of this chapter to fit with my story. King Richard did return to England in 1194 and promptly forgave his brother before departing once again. He died in 1199 and Prince John became King John. Or Bad King John, as he is sometimes known. I left out any mention of King Richard's capture or the fact that he was held for ransom. You can infer it here if you like, as it could, technically, fit my time line. But I've sacrificed historical accuracy in order to tell what I hope has been a full story. Please tell me what you thought. Thanks for reading.


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